“But you are not really busy?” said the visitor, looking at him doubtfully. “Well, I am and I am not,” replied Mr. Smith; and, deftly tipping aside the books, he disclosed some slips of manuscript. “It is an article for the ‘Cornhill,’” he continued; “but whether it will ever appear there is another matter. You have come to lunch, of course? And now, what is your news?” He was so quick and eager that he reminded people who saw him for the first time of a rat. When they came to know him better, they found that a stauncher friend than Jack Smith was not to be found in the Temple. With this he had the reputation of being a clever, clear-headed man, and his sound common-sense was almost a proverb. Observing that Lindo did not answer him, he repeated, “Is anything amiss, old fellow?” “Well, not quite amiss,” Lindo answered, his face flushing a little. “But the fact is”—taking the letter from the breast-pocket—“that I have had the offer of a living, Jack.” Smith leaped up and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “By Jove! old man,” he exclaimed heartily, “I am glad of it! Right glad of it! You must have had enough of that slumming. But I hope it is a better living than mine,” he continued, with a comical glance round the tiny room. “Let us have a look! What is it? Two hundred and a house?” Lindo handed the letter to him. It was written from Lincoln’s Inn Fields, and was dated the preceding day. It ran thus: “Dear Sir:—We are instructed by our client, the Right Honorable the Earl of Dynmore, to invite your acceptance of the living of Claversham in the county of Warwick, vacant by the death on the 15th instant of the Rev. John Williams, the late incumbent. The living, of which his lordship is the patron, is a town rectory, of the approximate value of 810_l_ per annum and a house. Our client is travelling in the United States, but we have the requisite authorities to proceed in due form and without delay, which in this matter is prejudicial. We beg to have the pleasure of receiving your acceptance at as early a date as possible, “And remain, dear Sir, “Your obedient servants, “Gearns & Baker. “To the Rev. Reginald Lindo, M.A.” The barrister read this letter with even greater surprise than seemed natural, and, when he had done, looked at his companion with wondering eyes. “Claversham!” he ejaculated. “Why, I know it well!” “Do you? I have never heard you mention it.” “I knew old Williams!” Jack continued, still in amaze. “Knew him well, and heard of his death, but little thought you were likely to succeed him. My dear fellow, it is a wonderful piece of good fortune! Wonderful! I shake you by the hand! I congratulate you heartily! But how did you come to know the high and mighty earl? Unbosom yourself, my dear boy!” “I do not know him—do not know him from Adam!” replied the young clergyman gravely. “You don’t mean it?” “I do. I have never seen him in my life.”