He had gone to his chambers one afternoon after he left the law courts,
and was there very busily engaged in getting up his notes for to-morrow's
work, when he received a visit which awakened at once echoes of the past
and alarms for the future in John's mind. It was very early in the year,
the end of January, and the House was not sitting, so that his public
duties were less overwhelming than usual. His room was the same in which
we have already seen on various occasions, and which Elinor in her
youth, before anything had happened to make life serious for her, had
been in the habit of calling the Star Chamber, for no reason in the
world except that law and penalties or judgments upon herself in her
unripe conviction, and suggestions of what ought to be done, came from
that place to which Mrs. Dennistoun had made resort in her perplexities
almost from the very beginning of John's reign there. Mr. Tatham had
been detained beyond his usual time by the importance of the case for
which he was preparing, and a clerk, very impatient to get free, yet
obliged to simulate content, had lighted the lamp and replenished the
fire. It had always been a comfortable room. The lamp by which John
worked had a green shade which concentrated the light upon a table
covered with that litter of papers in which there seemed so little
order, yet which Mr. Tatham knew to the last scrap as if they had been
the tidiest in the world. The long glazed book-case which filled up one
side of the room gave a dark reflection of the light and of the leaping
brightness of the fire. The curtains were drawn over the windows. If the
clerk fumed in the outer rooms, here all was studious life and quiet.
No spectator could have been otherwise than impressed by the air of
absolute self-concentration with which the eminent lawyer gave himself
up to his work. He was like his lamp, giving all the light in him to the
special subject, indifferent to everything outside.
"What is it, Simmons?" he said abruptly, without looking up.
"A lady, sir, who says she has urgent business and must see you."
"A lady--who _must_ see me." John Tatham smiled at the very ineffectual
_must_, which meant coercion and distraction to him. "I don't see how
she is going to accomplish that."
"I told her so," said the clerk.
"Well, you must tell her so again." He had scarcely lifted his head from
his work, so that it was unnecessary to return to it when the door
closed, and Mr. Tatham went on steadily as before.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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