“Not more wonderful than your own success. What a blessing it is, Fred, that you have come home without wanting to borrow any money”--he watched his brother’s face: he saw a cloud as of doubt or anxiety pass over it, and he smiled. “Not that I could lend you any if you did want it--with my expensive establishment. Still, it is a blessing and a happiness, Fred, to be able to think of you as the Head--I believe you said the Head--of the great and prosperous Firm of Barlow & Co.” Fred’s face distinctly lengthened. “I suppose I must not ask a business man about his income?” “Hardly--hardly. Though, if any man---- But--I have a partner who would not like these private affairs divulged.” “Well, Fred, I’m glad to see you back again--I am indeed.” They shook hands once more, and then, for some unknown reason, they were seized with laughter, long and not to be controlled. “Distinguished lawyer,” murmured Fred, when the laugh had subsided with an intermittent gurgle. “Influential man of business,” said Christopher. “Oh! Ho, Lord!” cried he, wiping his eyes, “it brings back the old times when we used to laugh. What a lot we had to laugh at! The creditors and the duns--you remember?” “I do. And the girls--and the suppers! They were good old times, Chris. You carried on shameful.” “We did--we did. It’s pleasant to remember, though.” “Chris, I’m thirsty.” “You always are.” His brother remembered this agreeable trait after five-and-twenty years. He got up, opened a cupboard, and took out a bottle and glasses and some soda-water. Then they sat opposite each other with the early tumbler and the morning cigar, beaming with fraternal affection. “Like old times, old man,” said the barrister. “It is. We’ll have many more old times,” said Fred, “now that I’m home again.” In the words of the poet, “Alas! they had been friends in youth,” as well as brothers. And it might have been better had they not been friends in youth. And they had heard the midnight chimes together. And they had together wasted each his slender patrimony. But now they talked friendly over the sympathetic drink that survives the possibility of port and champagne, and even claret. “Don’t they really suspect--any of them?” asked Brother Fred. “None of them. They call me a distinguished lawyer and the Pride of the Family--next to Leonard, who’s in the House.” “Isn’t there a danger of being found out?” “Not a bit. The business is conducted by letter. I might as well have no office at all, except for the look of it. No, there’s no fear. Nobody ever comes here. How did you find me out?” “Hotel clerk. He saw my name as a speaker at the dinner to-morrow, and suggested that I should write to you.” “Good. He gets a commission. I say, you must come and see us, you know. Remember, no allusions to the Complete Speech-maker--eh?” “Not a word. Though, I say, it beats me how you came to think of it.”