“Possibly; but he read me like a book, and said that I only came to him because I was hopeless. He asked me if I knew a score of things he was well aware that I must be ignorant of, and groaned every time I said 'No!' When he said, 'Go home and brush up your French and Italian,' I felt as if he said, 'Look over your rent roll, and thin your young timber.' He 's a humbug, mother.” “Oh, Tony, you must not say that.” “I will say it; he's a humbug, and so is the other.” “Who is the other you speak of?” “Lord Ledgerton, a smartish old fellow, with a pair of gray eyes that look through you, and a mouth that you can't guess whether he's going to eat you up or to quiz you. It was he that said, 'Make Butler a messenger.' They did n't like it. The Office fellows looked as sulky as night; but they had to bow and snigger, and say, 'Certainly, my Lord;' but I know what they intend, for all that. They mean to pluck me; that's the way they 'll do it; for when I said I was nothing to boast of in English, and something worse in French, they grinned and exchanged smiles, as much as to say, 'There's a rasper he 'll never get over.'” “And what is a messenger, Tony?” “He's a fellow that carries the despatches over the whole world,--at least, wherever there is civilization enough to have a Minister or an Envoy. He starts off from Downing Street with half-a-dozen great bags as tall as me, and he drops one at Paris, another at Munich, another at Turin, and perhaps the next at Timbuctoo. He goes full speed,--regular steeple-chase pace,--and punches the head of the first postmaster that delays him; and as he is well paid, and has nothing to think of but the road, the life is n't such a bad one.” “And does it lead to anything; is there any promotion from it?” “Not that I know, except to a pension; but who wants anything better? Who asks for a jollier life than rattling over Europe in all directions at the Queen's expense? Once on a time they were all snobs, or the same thing; now they are regular swells, who dine with the Minister, and walk into the attachés at billiards or blind hookey; for the dons saw it was a grand thing to keep the line for younger sons, and have a career where learning might be left out, and brains were only a burden!” “I never heard of such a line of life,” said she, gravely. “I had it from the fellows themselves. There were five of them in the waiting-room, tossing for sovereigns, and cursing the first clerk, whoever he is; and they told me they 'd not change with the first secretaries of any legation in Europe. But who is this, mother, that I see coming down the hill?--he 's no acquaintance of ours, I think?” “Oh, it's Mr. Maitland, Tony,” said she, in some confusion; for she was not always sure in what temper Tony would receive a stranger. “And who may Mr. Maitland be?”