attending to. There was some talk of a new
attorney setting up in Hamley, to be supported
by one or two of the more influential country
families, who had found Wilkins not so attentive
as his father. Sir Frank Holster sent for his
relation, and told him of this project, speaking to
him, at the same time, in pretty round terms as to
the folly of the life he was leading. Foolish it
certainly was, and as such Mr. Wilkins was
secretly acknowledging it; but when Sir Frank,
lashing himself, began to speak of his hearer's
presumption in joining the hunt, in aping the
mode of life and amusements of the landed gentry,
Edward fired up. He knew how much Sir Frank
was dipped, and comparing it with the round sum
his own father had left him, he said some plain
truths to Sir Frank which the latter never forgave,
and henceforth there was no intercourse
between Holster Court and Ford Bank, as Mr.
Edward Wilkins had christened his father's house
oil his first return from the Continent.

The conversation had two consequences besides
the immediate one of the quarrel. Mr. Wilkins
advertised for a responsible and confidential clerk
to conduct the business under his own superintendence;
and he also wrote to the Heralds' College
to ask them if he did not belong to the
family bearing the same name in South Wales—
those who have since reassumed their ancient
name of De Winton.

Both applications were favourably answered.
A skilful, experienced middle-aged clerk was
recommended to him by one of the principal
legal firms in London, and immediately engaged
to come to Hamley at his own terms; which
were pretty high. But, as Mr. Wilkins said it
was worth any money to pay for the relief from
constant responsibility which such a business as
his involved, some people remarked that he had
never appeared to feel the responsibility very
much hitherto, as witness his absences in Scotland,
his various social engagements when at
home; it had been very different (they said) in
his father's day. The Heralds' College gave him
hopes of affiliating him to the South Wales
family, but it would require time and money to
make the requisite inquiries and substantiate the
claim. Now, in many a place there would be
none to contest the right a man might have to
assert that he belonged to such and such a
family, or even to assume their arms.
But it was otherwise in—— shire. Every one was up
in genealogy and heraldry, and considered filching
a name and a pedigree a far worse sin than
any of those mentioned in the Commandments.
There were those among them who would doubt
and dispute even the decision of the Heralds'
College; but with it, if in his favour, Mr. Wilkins
intended to be satisfied, and accordingly
he wrote in reply to their letter to say, that of
course he was aware that such inquiries would
take a considerable sum of money, but that still
he wished them to be made, and that speedily.

Before the end of the year he went up to
London to order a brougham to be built (for
Ellinor to drive out in in wet weather, he said; but
as going in a closed carriage always made her
ill, he used it principally himself in driving to
dinner-parties), with the De Winton Wilkinses'
arms neatly emblazoned on panel and harness.
Hitherto he had always gone about in a dogcart—
the immediate descendant of his father's
old-fashioned gig.

For all this, the squires, lhis employers, only
laughed at him, and did not treat him with one
whit more respect.

Mr. Dunster, the new clerk, was a quiet, respectable-
-looking man; you could not call him a
gentleman in manner, and yet no one could say
he was vulgar. He had not much varying
expression on his face, but a permanent one of
thoughtful consideration of the subject in hand,
whatever it might be, that would have fitted as
well with the profession of medicine as with
that of law, and was quite the right look for
either. Occasionally a bright flash of sudden
intelligence lightened up his deep-sunk eyes, but
even this was quickly extinguished as by some
inward repression, and the habitually reflective,
subdued expression returned to the face. As
soon as he came into his situation he first began
quietly to arrange the papers, and next the
business of which they were the outward sign,
into more methodical order than they had been
in since old Mr. Wilkins's death. Punctual to
a moment himself, he looked his displeased surprise
when the inferior clerks came tumbling in
half an hour after the time in the morning; and
his look was more effective than many men's
words; henceforward the subordinates were
within five minutes of the appointed hour for
opening the office; but still he was always there
before them. Mr. Wilkins himself winced under
his new clerk's order and punctuality; Mr.
Dunster's raised eyebrow and contraction of
the lips at some woful confusion in the business
of the office, chafed Mr. Wilkins more, far more,
than any open expression of opinion would have
done; for that he could have met, and explained
away, as he fancied. A secret respectful dislike
grew up in his bosom against Mr. Dunster. He
esteemed him, he valued him, and he could not
bear him. Year after year, Mr. Wilkins had
become more under the influence of his feelings,
and less under the command of his reason. He
rather cherished than repressed his nervous
repugnance to the harsh measured tones of Mr.
Dunster's voice; the latter spoke with a
provincial twang which grated on his employer's
sensitive ear. He was annoyed at a certain green
coat which his new clerk brought with him, and
he watched its increasing shabbiness with a sort
of childish pleasure. But by-and-by Mr. Wilkins
found out that from some perversity of taste
Mr. Dunster always had his coats, Sunday and
working-day, made of this obnoxious colour;
and this knowledge did not diminish his secret
irritation. The worst of all, perhaps, was, that
Mr. Dunster was really invaluable in many ways;
"a perfect treasure," as Mr. Wilkins used to