“Ah, that's very nice. Glad you didn't dramatise it; the drama ought to be in the words, not the reader. I like your quiet way.” “Harte seems to have been about the last of the story-tellers to give us the great, simple heroes,” said Seyton. When the others were gone, and Lemuel, who had been afraid to go first, rose to take himself away, Bellingham shook his hand cordially and said, “I hope you weren't bored? The fact is, I rather promised myself a _tête-à-tête_ with you, and I told Mr. Sewell so; but I fell in with Seyton and Meredith yesterday--you can't help falling in with one when you fall in with the other; they're inseparable when Seyton's in town and I couldn't resist the temptation to ask them.” “Oh no, I wasn't bored at all,” said Lemuel. “I'm very glad. But--sit down a moment. I want to speak to you about a little matter of business. Mr. Sewell was telling us something of you the other night, at my cousin Bromfield Corey's, and it occurred to me that you might be willing to come and read to him. His eyes seem to be on the wane, some way, and he's rather sleepless. He'd give you a bed, and sometimes you'd have to read to him in the night; you'd take your meals where you like. How does it strike you, supposing the 'harnsome pittance' can be arranged?” “Why, if you think I can do it,” began Lemuel. “Of course I do. You don't happen to read French?” Lemuel shook his head hopelessly. “I studied Latin some at school--” “Ah! Well! I don't think he'd care for Latin. I think we'd better stick to English for the present.” Bellingham arranged for Lemuel to go with him that afternoon to his cousin's and make, as he phrased it, a stagger at the job. XXVI. The stagger seemed to be sufficiently satisfactory. Corey could not repress some twinges at certain characteristics of Lemuel's accent, but he seemed, in a critical way, to take a fancy to him, and he was conditionally installed for a week.