a I h R.AR.Y 
 
 OF THE 
 U N IVERSITY 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
 823 
 R4-3l^o 
 
 V. I
 
 ^^
 
 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL.
 
 THE 
 
 GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 Jl ^obcL 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDON : 
 RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON, 
 
 publishers in ©rbinttrB to ^er <^njestB thz OJuffn. 
 
 1887. 
 
 [All Rights Reserved.^
 
 
 Ql 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 ;t 
 
 f ff)C 
 
 CITIZENS OF LIVERPOOL 
 
 THIS WORK IS 
 
 pcbica(c5. 
 
 IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF THE KINDLY HOSPITALITY 
 :^ TO WHICH THE AUTHOR MAINLY OWES 
 
 \J THE OPPORTUNITY OF WRITING IT.
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. SOMERSET HOUSE 
 II. A NEW RECRUIT - 
 
 III. THIRD LIVERPOOL 
 
 IV. HER MAJESTY'S SERVANTS 
 V. MR. KERRY AT HOME 
 
 VI. CAUGHT IN THE ACT 
 VII. A FRIENDLY CALL 
 VIIL THE PARLIAMENTARY RETURN 
 IX. A THAW AT LAST - 
 X. ST. PAUL'S SQUARE 
 XI. MADGE 
 XII. MR. ASHFORD 
 XIII. IN SELWYN'S LODGINGS - 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I 
 
 7 
 32 
 51 
 73 
 
 TOO 
 118 
 141 
 
 165 
 191 
 
 209 
 
 242 
 279
 
 THE 
 
 GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 CHAPTER I, 
 
 SOMERSET HOUSE. 
 
 ^"^ OR the best part of two centuries, 
 1^ Time, strolling up and down the 
 Strand, has been busily engaged 
 in obliterating almost everything of interest 
 in that thoroughfare. From the Law Courts 
 to Charing Cross no relic of ancient days 
 remains except a Roman Bath and the Royal 
 Chapel of the Savoy, neither of which is pro- 
 perly speaking in the Strand at all, though 
 adjacent to it. 
 
 With impartial finger the Old Enemy has 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 2 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 rubbed out stately Palaces, the Inns of the 
 Bishops, the mansions of the old nobility 
 and the picturesque houses richly ornamented 
 with roses, crowns, fleurs-de-lis, and dragons 
 — which, ere they finally disappeared, were 
 converted into shops by an age as utilitarian 
 as our own. 
 
 The Three Bridges had vanished long 
 before ; though probably a few centuries 
 later than the period when complaint was 
 made about the footway being interrupted by 
 'thickets and bushes,^ to balance which incon- 
 venience, however, the adventurous traveller 
 from Temple Bar — it was really a bar then, not 
 a gateway — enjoyed on the one hand frequent 
 glimpses of the river, and on the other an 
 almost uninterrupted view of the open 
 country, extending to the pleasant uplands 
 known as Hampstead and Highgate. 
 
 Very effectually Time has done his work. 
 Whenever any building more than usually 
 splendid was erected, without delay Time 
 began to pull it down ; and the process, if 
 gradual, proved so certain that scarcely one 
 stone remains on another of the palaces where 
 history was made, and the men and women
 
 SOMERSE T HO USE. 
 
 who furnished so much of England's tragic 
 romance, lived, loved, suffered, smiled, and 
 wept. 
 
 Best so, perhaps — for Fancy can re-line the 
 river's bank with stately dwellings and spread- 
 ing gardens — it can clothe the Past in gayer 
 colours and with fairer face than reality ever 
 wore ; with a wave of its magic wand it 
 can give us back Somerset House in the days 
 when kings and queens feasted there, instead 
 of the desolate picture of a deserted and 
 dilapidated palace, surrounded by dreary 
 grounds, which remained a mournful com- 
 mentary on the vanity of all earthly hopes 
 till Sir William Chambers swept the edifice 
 away and covered the site with one of the 
 very few handsome buildings modern London 
 can boast. 
 
 The old fulfilled its purpose — let it rest. 
 Looking at the past rationally, what did it 
 contain we should desire to recall ? 
 
 It was a time of wrong, oppression, hard- 
 ship, injustice, cruelty, wickedness, and ex- 
 travagance — a time when might was right ; 
 when the rich lorded it over the poor ; when 
 men lived lives 'twere shame almost to recall ;
 
 4 THE GOVERXMEXT OFFICIAL. 
 
 when the palaces of kings were less healthy 
 than the dwellings of paupers under Victoria ; 
 when the old houses, exquisitely picturesque, 
 overhanging their foundations, were * the 
 receptacles of dirt in every corner of their 
 projecting stories, and the bane of ancient 
 London when the plague with all its attendant 
 horrors frowned destruction on the wretched 
 inhabitants, reserving its forces for the attacks 
 of each returning summer.' 
 
 To read and dream about, the former 
 times may have been romantic, stirring, 
 grand, and in some respects great ; but in no 
 broad sense were they good. 
 
 Let them go. Not of the old House whence 
 Somerset was taken to the scaffold — which 
 Elizabeth, in * her wise economy,' lent to her 
 cousin Lord Hunsdon, whom she frequently 
 visited within its walls — where Anne of Den- 
 mark and her ladies appeared in a constant 
 masquerade, ' like so many sea-nymphs and 
 nereids,' in various dresses, ' to the ravish- 
 ment of the beholders,' and later on Henrietta 
 Maria won the struggle for mastery against 
 her husband, while a petty war raged between 
 Hacket, the King's chaplain, and the Queen's
 
 SOMERSET HOUSE. 
 
 confessor as to who should say grace — an in- 
 decorous race for precedence often occurring, 
 which was generally terminated by the 
 Protestant chaplain shoving the Catholic 
 priest aside, and the King pulling the dishes 
 to him — do we wish to speak further. 
 
 Our story begins In the new Somerset 
 House — handsome without, Inconvenient 
 within — once the abode of the Royal Society, 
 jeered at by Hudlbras, who charged the 
 members with attempting to 
 
 " Search the moon by her own light, 
 To take an inventory of all 
 Her real estate and personal ; 
 To measure wind, and weigh the air, 
 And turn a circle to a square, 
 And in the braying of an ass 
 Find out the treble and the bass. 
 If mares neigh alto, and a cow 
 In double diapason low." 
 
 The Royal Society have long left It, and 
 the place is now given over to Registers of 
 Births, Registers of Marriages, Registers of 
 Deaths, Registers of Wills, Stamps, Probate, 
 and beyond all things TAXES. 
 
 It Is with taxes we have to do — with 
 the busy, noisy, rattling, buying, selling,
 
 6 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 anxious, rushing Strand of these later days, ^ 
 and the head-quarters where Victoria Dei 
 Gratia collects the dues to which she is 
 entitled from her liege subjects. 
 
 We shut out the Past — we welcome the 
 Present. The Strand of to-day remains un- 
 changed from the Strand of 1879. 
 
 The Inland Revenue Offices situated in 
 Somerset House are in much the same con- 
 dition as they were on a certain Monday of, 
 August in that exceptionally wet year which 
 preceded the eighties. 
 
 On that day this story, such as it is, opens.
 
 CHAPTER II, 
 
 A NEW RECRUIT. 
 
 AIN! Rain! Rain! It seemed to 
 have been raining for years ; the 
 memory of man scarce went back 
 to a time when a bit of blue, broad as a neck- 
 ribbon, was to be discerned in the sky. It 
 had been ralnlnof for weeks, for months. 
 Saturday night closed in with a deluge of 
 rain ; on Sunday fine weather was prayed for 
 in all churches and chapels to an accompani- 
 ment of driving rain heavier, if possible, than 
 any previous dispensation, and now Monday 
 morning had come — Black Monday, with all 
 the cares of the previous seven soaking days 
 on its mind and an infinity of wretched, disas- 
 trous days looming darkly through the gloom. 
 Rain ! why the Deluge might have been at
 
 8 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 hand once more. In the heavens there was 
 no bow set as token of the covenant between 
 God and His earth, and If there had been, no 
 mere mortal could have beheld it. Leaden 
 clouds hung sullenly over the length and 
 breadth of England ; in despair farmers figura- 
 tively turned their faces to the wall and gave 
 up the ghost of hope — the hearts of men grew 
 sick by reason of waiting and longing for fine 
 weather. All colour, all scent, all beauty had 
 long before been beaten out of the June roses, 
 while the tall, rich grass was laid and rotted, 
 and now the crops of grain were being ruined : 
 perhaps because we did not ' amend our lives * 
 no weather was sent to enable us to receive 
 English fruits, or wheat, or barley, or any- 
 thing else in due season in that awful summer 
 and autumn of 1879. 
 
 Who except the babe then unborn and the 
 child then in arms can fail to remember the 
 plagues of rain and waters which in that year 
 came upon us } Day after day, week after 
 week, the pitiless rain descended ; the Thames 
 was swollen and turbid, the Strand a sea of 
 liquid mud, the fair Thames Valley a 
 district of submerged green fields, yet on
 
 A NEW RECRUIT. 
 
 one sad wet Monday morning a young 
 fellow brimful of life, careless of the weather, 
 eager, curious, hopeful, anxious to begin 
 work, confident of success, certain all things 
 would be well with him, walked cheerfully 
 down Drury Lane on his way to Somerset 
 House. 
 
 A 'raw country lad,' any Londoner looking 
 at his fresh, honest young face would have 
 said ; but there was stuff in the lad — good 
 material, waiting to be moulded by circum- 
 stances into shape. Under his dripping 
 umbrella truthfulness, high purpose, the de- 
 termination to do his duty, walked steadll)*, 
 keeping true time to the buoyant tread of 
 three-and-twenty years free from sin, though 
 not ignorant of sorrow and struggle. 
 
 Not a likely youth to take for a hero. 
 Perhaps not, but such as he is he must be 
 taken or left. Very countrified and un- 
 sophisticated he certainly seemed. He was 
 by no means handsome, but pleasant and 
 wholesome-looking. He had a complexion 
 clear white, clear red, a good deal freckled — 
 which Is a way complexions have when asso- 
 ciated with a particular shade of chesnut
 
 lo THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 hair — eyes of greenish gray, features fairly 
 regular, straight nose, mouth somewhat large, 
 teeth good, no moustache, no whiskers, no 
 beard — nothing in the way of hirsute adorn- 
 ment save a faint light down on his upper 
 lip ; a frank, taking young fellow, who, carry- 
 ing his five feet ten Inches of height erect, 
 strode along the pavement, and who, if he 
 jostled a passer-by, disarmed resentment by 
 a smile which awoke an answering look Irk 
 the face of almost the churllest old cur- 
 mudgeon who instinctively turned to swear 
 at his awkwardness. 
 
 He had successfully passed his examina- 
 tion ; after hard study and a fierce fight he 
 found himself victor. At three-and-twenty 
 it seems very pleasant to be victorious,, 
 especially when victory means needful bread 
 and butter. 
 
 In the hour of his success the lad's soft 
 heart yearned after his long dead father and 
 widowed mother, who survived her husband 
 some ten years. She was a true and gentle 
 lady, who, though weak, had made a brave 
 battle with poverty, and brought up her 
 boy to fear God and reverence all things
 
 A NEW RECRUIT. II 
 
 holy and of good repute, and to know no 
 dread save of sin and disgrace. At that 
 supreme time also memory of much more 
 recent date gave him back another recol- 
 lection — that of his father's uncle, who 
 had taken the widow and orphan to his own 
 home after Mr. Serle's death, and shared 
 with them the contents of a slender purse. 
 He could see the old man in his cottage 
 overlooking the sea, immersed among his 
 books, dreaming away in curious reading the 
 evening of a once busy life. He had been a 
 naval surgeon, and his two pleasures were to 
 rake the horizon with a telescope and discuss 
 curious passages he had come across in a 
 strange course of desultory reading with the 
 lord of the manor, who was nearly as old and 
 as fine an antique as himself. It was these 
 two who had, after long consultation, decided 
 Selwyn Serle, the raw country lad, must 
 make his way as civil servant to her most 
 gracious Majesty. 
 
 * There is not money sufficient to put you 
 into a profession, my boy,' said his uncle, * and 
 we Series had always poor heads for business.' 
 
 So Selwyn's litde capital was invested in
 
 12 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 •education, but when it yielded a good return 
 the old uncle was gone where worldly suc- 
 cesses matter little. 
 
 Never did any young fellow more utterly 
 •destitute of relations pace the London pave- 
 ments. So far as he knew he had not a kinsman 
 living. Three times the pure strong spring 
 of his life had been covered by the salt 
 waves of death — three times the wild sea of 
 trouble had flowed over his soul ; but after 
 many days it had ebbed, and then the waters 
 of his nature had gushed forth again clear, 
 buoyant, and sweet as ever. There had 
 been nothing in his experience to turn his 
 grief to hardness ; kind friends were always 
 near him. The squire's wife closed his 
 mother's eyes, and let him weep the first 
 bitter tears unchecked, her hand clasping 
 his. 
 
 In joy and trouble alike friends had been 
 near to sympathize. Their few neighbours 
 were interested in his success and anxious 
 for his welfare. Seacourt had been to him 
 a second home, and no difference was made 
 between him and the sons of the house. He 
 knew they were born to riches and he to
 
 A NE W RECR UIT. 1 3 
 
 poverty ; but the world was open to him, 
 and he would have been but a poor fellow 
 had he gone out into It with a sulky face and 
 a discontented temper. 
 
 There was no mystery m his past — no 
 mystery in the past of man or woman be- 
 longing to him. The Series had never been 
 great nor grand, but they had been honest 
 and self-respecting. There was not a single 
 page of shame in the family annals, not a 
 blurred or blotted name in the simple record. 
 
 These, then, were the traditions of that 
 poor cheery lad's life as we first see him 
 walking through the pouring rain to Somerset 
 House, which represented to him the Temple 
 of Fortune. 
 
 He had achieved distinction, he had won a 
 coveted prize — he had passed his examination 
 for Civil Service Clerkships, Grade I. He 
 was going to serve her Majesty very faith- 
 fully, and compass much good fortune. 
 
 To such a young man, so lucky, so 
 hopeful, so content, what could deluges of 
 rain signify ? Why nothing, though out of 
 some vague feeling of loyalty to the Queen, 
 one of whose servants he considered himself^
 
 14 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 he had donned his best suit and newest hat. 
 In good spirits he passed down Newcastle 
 Street and through Drury Court, and 
 straight across the Strand to Somerset 
 House, the gates of which stood hospitably 
 open to receive him. After passing under 
 the central archway he paused for a moment 
 irresolute, then turned to the right. Above 
 a doorway facing the great quadrangle he 
 saw the words 'Inland Revenue: Tax 
 Branch ' inscribed in large gold letters. Her 
 Majesty's latest civil recruit concluded this 
 was the entrance to the office of which 
 he was in search, but to put the matter 
 beyond doubt he asked a stout, red-faced 
 policeman standing at the door where he 
 should find ' Room 66.' The policeman was 
 listening to a good story told him by an 
 equally stout brother officer, whose long 
 black beard w'as quivering with suppressed 
 enjoyment of his joke, and answered 
 tetchily : 
 
 ' First turn to the left, then to the right, 
 up the staircase to the top, and then ask 
 acrain.' 
 
 As Selwyn left them the story was at once
 
 A NEW RECRUIT. 15 
 
 resumed, and before he had turned the corner 
 ' to the left ' the corridor resounded with a 
 terrific guffaw, and a sound as if Gog and 
 IMagog had both slapped their knees at once. 
 
 With this sound ringing in his ears Selwyn 
 climbed the staircase ' to the top,' and found 
 himself in a corridor from which numberless 
 doors opened. As is usual in Somerset House, 
 no one chanced to be in sight of whom to 
 'ask again,' but with a little trouble he found 
 the room of which he was in search, and an- 
 nounced his advent with a modest knock. 
 There came no answer. He repeated the 
 knock ; there still came no reply, though 
 voices could be distinguished in the office. 
 After two more vain efforts to attract atten- 
 tion Selwyn opened the door and entered. 
 
 He found himself behind a screen, artfully 
 arranged so as to cut off the slightest draught, 
 though as the office door itself was lined with 
 list, this precaution seemed almost superfluous. 
 Advancing beyond the cover of the screen, 
 he saw a young man dressed in a blue serge 
 coat and waistcoat, very light trousers, white 
 gaiters, and a red necktie. This individual 
 had just taken a sheet of paper from a boy
 
 1 6 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL, 
 
 who stood at his side, and lounging back in 
 his chair, surveyed it critically as Selwyn 
 advanced. 
 
 ' Pray, sir, sit down,' said he, without rising. 
 
 Selwyn accepted the invitation. 
 
 ' I have a letter,' he began, ' directing 
 me ' 
 
 * One moment,' the other interrupted ; ' I 
 will attend to you directly. Here, Whalley, 
 this is much straighter, isn't it ?' 
 
 Mr. Whalley rose from a desk on the 
 opposite side of the room, near the window, 
 and leaned over his friend's shoulder to ex- 
 amine the document. 
 
 ' That's very neat indeed !' said Whalley. 
 ' Who was working the machine, Hilton ?' 
 
 ' I was ; I knew Raikes didn't half attend 
 to what he was doing. Look I' added Mr. 
 Hilton, holding out the page at arm's 
 length, and contemplating it with affectionate 
 admiration, while he read aloud, ' Cobbleton 
 Hilton, Esq., Chairman of the Beard of 
 Inland Revenue.' ' That type- writer's a 
 deuced useful kind of thing.' 
 
 ' Chairman of the Board, eh ? Did you 
 hear that ?' cried Whalley, appealing to the
 
 A NE W RECR UIT. 1 7 
 
 other men in the room ; * modest, Isn't he ?' 
 and there ensued a Qreneral chuckle. 
 
 ' Pooh, pooh, pooh !' said Mr. Hilton, 
 turninof at the same time to our hero with an 
 inquiring look. 
 
 Selvvyn gave him the letter which he had 
 previously mentioned, and Mr. Hilton read 
 it through carefully twice. Then, having 
 apparently by a great effort of mind mastered 
 its contents, and made a note of the official 
 number in the top left-hand corner, he pro- 
 ceeded to inquire : 
 
 ' Have you been medically examined, Mr. 
 Serle ?' 
 
 * No,' replied Selwyn, in some astonish- 
 ment, ' the letter. I think, states I come here 
 for that purpose.' 
 
 Mr. Hilton took the letter up, and read it 
 through again. 
 
 ' Ah I so it does !' exclaimed he, as if 
 Selwyn's answer had thrown a new and 
 valuable light upon the contents ; * then I 
 suppose I must give you a line to the medical 
 officer,' and suiting the action to the word he 
 drew a sheet of paper towards him and com- 
 menced writing. 
 
 VOL. I. 2
 
 1 8 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 Before, however, Mr. Hilton had finished 
 the second hne of his letter a door leading to 
 another inner-room opened, and a very stout 
 man, dressed in a suit of violent checked 
 tweed, and bearing in his hand a shovel, 
 made his appearance. 
 
 'Hullo, Dent,' exclaimed Mr. Hilton, 
 turning round and throwing down his pen, 
 * what have you there ?' 
 
 * Come here, Hilton ; come here, Whalley,' 
 said the stout man jovially, advancing towards 
 the fireplace. * I want to show you this. 
 It's a new kind of fuel invented by a friend 
 of mine. I got a sample of it by post this 
 morning ; and Tve been trying to light it for 
 the last two hours, but the d — d thing won't 
 catch. I suppose I haven't quite got the 
 knack of It yet.' 
 
 He deposited the shovel In the fender, 
 and the three men clustered round it. Mr. 
 Hilton took up a little piece of the patent 
 fuel, pinched It, smelt It, touched it with his 
 tongue, carried it to the light to examine it 
 more closely, and finally shook his head and 
 replaced it in the fender without speaking. 
 
 * Don't, Whalley, don't, man !' cried Mr.
 
 A NE W RECRUIT. jq 
 
 Dent, repressing that gentleman's incon- 
 venient zeal, ' if it catches suddenly it will go 
 all up my sleeve. There, that's better !' 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. Hilton was steadily strik- 
 ing matches and applying them to the fuel, 
 but with very little result. 
 
 ' You've got it wet, haven't you ?' he asked 
 at last. 
 
 'Wet? No!' replied his friend, 'and if I 
 had I've struck matches enough to dry it.' 
 
 ' H'm !' said Mr. Hilton, doubtfully and 
 ruefully gazing at the pile of extinct matches 
 littering the hearth. 
 
 'Here,' said Whalley, 'I know what to do 
 Give me another box of lights.' 
 
 Hilton handed him one, and he proceeded 
 to build up a structure of matches, laying 
 them crosswise in a square. When the 
 erection was as high as he considered safe he 
 laid a piece of the patent fuel gingerly on the 
 top, and applied a light to the four corners 
 of the square. A flame at once shot up, and 
 the fuel showed signs of ignition. 
 
 * See ! see !' cried Dent excitedly, * give 
 me some paper !' 
 
 He looked round, and snatching the un- 
 
 2 2
 
 20 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 finished epistle lying on Mr. Hilton's desk^ 
 screwed it up and held it in the flame to 
 increase the heat. 
 
 'Hang it all/ Mr. Hilton said in an in> 
 JLired tone. ' I say, Dent, I'd only just 
 beorun that letter.' 
 
 ' Never mind, what does it matter, my dear 
 fellow } — the fuel's catching : by Jove it is !' 
 
 All at once, with a loud fizzing noise, the 
 fuel did catch. A thick sulphurous smoke 
 rose from it, and, the register of the grate 
 being closed, was wafted out into the room. 
 The smoke grew thicker and more choking 
 every instant, and the three men were forced 
 to retire from the fireplace. Holding his 
 handkerchief to his mouth, Mr. Hilton 
 gasped out : 
 
 ' Damn it, Dent ; you needn't go making 
 such a stench as that here.' 
 
 Mr. Dent looked rather injured, but made 
 no retort. He retreated with Whalley to the 
 window, and began to talk to him in a low 
 tone. Mr. Hilton coughed several times, 
 and, resuming his seat, said politely to 
 Selwyn : 
 
 * I am sorry to detain you, Mr. Serle ; but,.
 
 A XEW RECRUIT. 
 
 as you saw, the letter which I had com- 
 menced to write was accidentally destroyed 
 by my friend over there ;' then taking up 
 another sheet of paper he completed and 
 addressed a letter to — 
 
 Theophilus Olive, Esq., M.D., 
 237, Henrietta Street, 
 
 Covent Garden. 
 
 * I must ask you to present this personally 
 to Dr. Olive, and to bring back his reply,* 
 ^Ir. Hilton observed in his most courteous 
 manner, and handing the note to Selwyn, 
 immediately possessed himself of a yellow- 
 backed novel, which occupied a conspicuous 
 position in one of the pigeon-holes of his 
 desk, and settling his chair comfortably, 
 became immersed in ' Under Two Flags.' 
 
 Dr. Olive's waiting-room was full when 
 Selwyn reached it, and nearly an hour passed 
 before he was admitted to the presence of 
 a kindly old gentleman, with an abstracted 
 wandering expression of countenance, who 
 listened with a stethoscope to his breathing, 
 requested him to articulate the words ' ninety-
 
 2 2 THE G J ^ERKMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 nine ' distinctly, and listened again ; inquired 
 whether he had had the measles, of what 
 his father, mother, and all his relations for 
 two generations had died ; professed the 
 greatest regard for Mr. Hilton, whom he 
 characterized as an energetic young man, 
 sure to rise in his office ; congratulated Selwyn 
 on having obtained so good an appointment ; 
 told him that all young men ought to work 
 hard ; recommended fish-bones as a nutritious 
 diet ; detained him in all exactly seven 
 minutes, and sent him away wishing him 
 every prosperity. 
 
 When Selwyn, armed with the note Dr. 
 Olive had entrusted to him, returned to 
 Room 66 he found it empty, save for the 
 presence of a young boy, who appeared to 
 find time hanging heavily on his hands and 
 informed him that Mr. Hilton had gone out to 
 lunch, adding the advice that Selwyn might 
 as well go too. Nothing loth, Selwyn availed 
 himself of the hint, and returned in about an 
 hour to find Mr. Hilton busily engaged in 
 arranging a large mass of papers. 
 
 * Ah !' he said, 'glad you've come, Mr. 
 Serle. There are your papers, and I want
 
 A NEW RECRUIT. 23 
 
 to take you down to see the Chief- Inspector. 
 Is that Dr. Olive's letter ?' 
 
 Selwyn handed hini the note. 
 
 'Very satisfactory,' remarked Mr. Hilton, 
 after glancing over it. * Queer old fellow, 
 isn't he ? Did he advise you to dine on fish- 
 bones ?' 
 
 * He said he thought fish-bones a very 
 nutritious diet.' 
 
 ' Ah, he tells everybody that. Now, Mr. 
 Serle, will you write a short account of your- 
 self, so that we may know something about 
 you ? What pens do you use ?' placing before 
 the new comer a huge bundle of quills. 
 
 * I don't think I quite understand what 
 you want me to do.' 
 
 * Oh ! very simple matter ! Just tell us 
 where you were born, educated, and so on. 
 What prizes and scholarships you got, and 
 who your college tutor was, and anything 
 else you think is likely to interest us.' 
 
 And this is what Selwyn Serle wrote : 
 
 * I was born at Brompton Ralph, In 
 Somersetshire, on the 7th April, 1856. 
 My father was curate of that parish for
 
 24 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 fifteen years. He died when I was 
 twelve years old, and my mother then 
 removed to Seacourt, near Minehead. I 
 was educated at Blundell's School, Tiverton, 
 where I gained the Latin verse prize in 1874. 
 I read for the Civil Service with the Rector 
 of Seacourt. I am an only child, all my 
 relatives are dead, and my great-uncle, with 
 whom I lived at Seacourt, served at the 
 Battle of the Nile.' 
 
 ' Thank you ! That is just what we want,' 
 said Mr. Hilton politely, as he took the paper 
 from Selwyn's hands. ^ Now I think we had 
 better go down and see Mr. Dandison.' 
 
 * Who is he ?' inquired Selwyn. 
 
 ' That, my dear fellow, is one of the things 
 which will be borne in upon you rather 
 forcibly before you have adorned the Inland 
 Revenue Department very many weeks. 
 One thing can safely be said for Dandison : 
 he leaves the imprint of his own individuality 
 upon everyone who comes near him.' 
 
 ' That sounds rather dubious,' Selwyn re- 
 marked. 
 
 ' Well ! you will have your ow^n oppor-
 
 A XEW RECRUIT. 25 
 
 tunities of judging. I'll tell you all you 
 need to know about him at present as we go 
 down.' 
 
 Mr. Hilton gathered up his papers, and as 
 they wound their way through a labyrinth 
 of corridors and staircases to the Chief-In- 
 spector's Room, he gave Selwyn the follow^ing 
 pieces of information : 
 
 Mr. Dandison, the Chief- Inspector, en- 
 tered the service when very young. As an 
 Assistant-Surveyor, and afterwards as a 
 Surveyor, he was remarkable for the zeal 
 and for the avidity with which he pounced 
 upon the driest details of his official work 
 and mastered them. However complicated 
 a case might be, however elaborately cooked 
 the accounts which accompanied it, though 
 successive Surveyors might have shaken 
 their heads over it, and Inspectors winked 
 and been content to let it rest, Mr. Dandison 
 seized it, so to speak, between his teeth, and 
 worried the matter till he had extracted 
 something comprehensible out of it. It is 
 true his detractors whispered that his clever- 
 ness was really only cunning, and that plau- 
 sible as his suggestions might be, they were
 
 26 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 often unjust, and only accepted on account of 
 the easy means which they furnished for dis- 
 posing of difficult cases. It was said that 
 his rapid promotion over the heads of his 
 seniors was not wholly due to direct recog- 
 nition of his merit, but to backstairs influence, 
 and to a tongue which never lacked a clever 
 inuendo against a rival. The successful man 
 can despise his detractors ; It is only when 
 one is falling in the world that the hits begin 
 to tell. 
 
 Mr. Dandison was successful. The most 
 Important districts were assigned to him 
 while he was still young, and while older 
 men of equal merit, but lacking audacity, 
 were eating their hearts away in sleepy 
 country towns, hoping for promotion which 
 never came for quiet, honest work. Not 
 many years had passed over his head when Mr. 
 Dandison became an Inspector — the hardest, 
 most inquisitive and merciless of Inspectors. 
 No one was better hated among his old 
 companions the Surveyors ; but from this 
 time the man's personality made itself felt 
 in the service. His headquarters were now 
 at Somerset House, and though he frequently
 
 A NE W RECR UIT. 27 
 
 darted down into the country upon some in- 
 quisitorial raid, he was always at hand to 
 lay his * great practical experience ' at the 
 service of his chiefs. So that when the Chief- 
 Inspector resigned, the promotion of Mr. 
 Dandison to the vacant post was hardly felt 
 as a change, since he had long wielded the 
 real power which the position bestowed. 
 
 * The right man for the post,' his chiefs 
 said, and Mr. Dandison agreed with them. 
 Impassive and mechanical, he used his 
 authority like a scourge. He was indeed a 
 model civil servant. In course of time he 
 bought a smug villa at Finchley, which he 
 furnished according to the correctest prin- 
 ciples of the modern aesthetical no-taste, and 
 became at once vastly respected in the 
 neighbourhood. 
 
 On the sunniest life, however, there falls 
 some shadow — no garden-wall, face it the 
 south never so well, ripens all its peaches. 
 Mr. Dandison had a brother. This in itself 
 must have proved a misfortune, unless the 
 brother had been cast in the same uncom- 
 promising mould as the Chief- Inspector. 
 Unfortunately, in addition to total dissimi-
 
 :;8 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 larlty of nature, Dandlson junior (he was 
 junior) was a literary man of Bohemian 
 tastes, dwelt in a pretty house overlooking 
 Regent's Park, and wrote — not steady works, 
 but novels — 'larky' novels! Novels which 
 told wild stories of Epsom, Homburg, and 
 Monte Carlo ; novels which the fastest 
 men could read in bed on Sunday morning 
 with pleasure ; novels which were eagerly 
 devoured by the younger clerks in Somerset 
 House, but before which Mr. Dandlson him- 
 self recoiled in horror. It was not that the 
 comparatively loose morality of the books 
 really shocked him — his brother might have 
 broken every commandment of the ten, and 
 Mr. Dandlson would have borne the know- 
 ledge meekly, as long as the world was not 
 taken into confidence. But that the big 
 world outside Somerset House, as well as 
 the little w^orld within, should speak of him 
 as ' Bob Dandison's brother,' and that some 
 part of the novelist's slangy reputation should 
 extend to him in consequence, was a sore 
 affliction. He tasted the dregs of the cup of 
 bitterness on a certain day when a lady, 
 well known in fashionable society, called on
 
 A NE JV RECR UIT. 29 
 
 him under the impression that he was tJic 
 Dandison — his own brother. 
 
 * Imagine, my dear/ she said with par- 
 donable warmth, when retalHng the circum- 
 stance to her bosom friend ; ' imagine my 
 diseust to find not our Dandison, but onlv a 
 tax-man !' 
 
 ' So, Mr. Serle,' this high functionary com- 
 mented, reading from our hero's autobio- 
 graphy, after JNIr. Hilton had introduced 
 him and departed, ' so you were born at 
 Brompton Ralph ? A very lovely part of 
 a very lovely county. Your lines fell in 
 pleasant places when you were a mere child. 
 And you went from there to Minehead— 
 pleasant again ; and from Minehead to 
 Tiverton — pleasanter still ; and from Tiver- 
 ton you come to the Inland Revenue, plea- 
 santest perhaps of all. Really, Mr. Serle, 
 vou are a verv fortunate younor man. I am 
 delighted to make your acquaintance.' 
 
 The Chief-Inspector shook hands so 
 warmly, that Selwyn felt Mr. Hilton must 
 have misjudged him, and not to lag behind in 
 courtesy, he said he thought so too, and that 
 he hoped eventually to rise in the service.
 
 30 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 ' There is,' said Mr. Dandison pompously, 
 as if he were speaking for the information of 
 the British Empire, instead of for that of an 
 insignificant Assistant-Surveyor of Taxes, 
 * there is no branch of the Public Service so 
 open as the Inland Revenue to recognise 
 and reward merit. You have a great career 
 before you, Mr. Serle, and I can assure you 
 that I shall always in an especial degree 
 watch your progress with interest.' 
 
 Selwyn thanked him gratefully, and in- 
 quired in what part of England he was to be 
 stationed. 
 
 ' Is there any place for which you have a 
 preference ?' asked the Chief- Inspector, con- 
 sulting a register, and running his fingers 
 down the page. ' There is a vacancy at 
 Edinburgh, but I fancy that will be other- 
 wise filled up. And there is one at Liver- 
 pool. Should you like to go to Liverpool, 
 Mr. Serle T 
 
 It was courteous of the Chief- Inspector to 
 put the matter as if the decision rested with his 
 subordinate ; very courteous indeed, because 
 he had already decided that, whether Mr. Serle 
 liked it or not, to Liverpool he should go.
 
 A NEW RECRUIT. 31 
 
 Selwyn replied that he was prepared to 
 travel to any part of the country where he 
 might be sent, which reply was much com- 
 mended by Mr. Dandison. The interview 
 then terminated, after Selwyn had received 
 a letter he was advised to present as soon 
 as possible to 
 
 Martin Trosdale, Esq., 
 
 Surveyor of Taxes, 
 
 Liverpool 3.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THIRD LIVERrOOL. 
 
 |T was pouring In torrents when, on 
 the day following: his Interview 
 with jMr. Dandison. Selwyn found 
 himself and his fortunes pacino- the Liverpool 
 streets. He had obeyed his instructions 
 Hterally. He packed his portmanteau on 
 Monday night, and early on Tuesday was 
 ready for the road. No delay or hesitation 
 about Mr. Serle ! Eager and ready for work, 
 his Somerset House experiences, so far from 
 damping his ardour, had raised it to tropical 
 heat. 
 
 Everybody had been good to him — very ; 
 especially the ChiefTnspector. He retained 
 a pleasant memory even of the boy In charge. 
 London chanced to be In one of her genial
 
 THIRD LIVERPOOL. 33 
 
 moods on the wet Monday when this story 
 opens — she has her bad moods, which are 
 nasty as moods can be — but so far Selwyn's 
 experience of them was nil. 
 
 He might, for instance, have gone to 
 Somerset House on a morning when every 
 man he spoke to had got out of the wrong 
 side of his bed — when no one knew anything, 
 or would do anything, or be civil about any- 
 thinof. We have all had our turn of that sort 
 of contrariness, concerning which we feel we 
 should prefer to keep silence for the re- 
 mainder of our lives. 
 
 The offices in Somerset House he had 
 been so fortunate as to visit were, it is true, 
 as unlike his pre-conceived ideas of offices 
 devoted to the work of carrying on a Govern- 
 ment as Messrs. Whalley, Dent, Hilton, and 
 Co., from the stiff, insolent, unapproachable 
 young man, well-tied up with yards of [red 
 tape, he had expected to answer his modest 
 application with frigid haughtiness ; but his 
 disappointment in these respects was' by no 
 means disagreeable, and nothing could have 
 been homelier than the greeting of the great 
 Government beehive — shall I say .'^ (though 
 
 VOL. I. 3
 
 34 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL, 
 
 that term is not quite accurate) — to this latest 
 probationer, nothing easier than the ways and 
 manners of the subordinates, young and old, 
 who were good enough to take her Majesty's 
 pay. 
 
 ' And no doubt,' Mr. Serle thought, * spite of 
 all their larking and chaffing, they get through 
 an enormous amount of work when they set 
 themselves to it. If the fellows at Liverpool 
 are only like Mr. Hilton, I shall consider my- 
 self quite in Fortune's good books. I did not 
 expect to find things so pleasant, certainly.' 
 
 It was this satisfied and thankful mood 
 which shortened the journey to Lancashire, 
 and made even the Liverpool streets, seen 
 through a deluge of rain, attractive. He 
 had left a steady downpour behind him at 
 Huston ; all the way torrents beat upon the 
 carriage roof and dashed against the windows, 
 while w^hen he arrived in Liverpool it 
 seemed as though the Mersey had selected 
 that particular day for making a little pleasure 
 excursion through most of the thoroughfares ; 
 but to Selwyn these little drawbacks signified 
 nothing. In a good temper with the world 
 and himself, he left his luggage at the
 
 THIRD LIVERPOOL. 35 
 
 terminus, and set out to find Martin Trosdale, 
 Esq., Surveyor of Taxes. 
 
 Outside Lime Street Station he asked a 
 policeman if he could direct him to the offices 
 of which he was in search. 
 
 'You must go to the Custom House,' was 
 the reply. 
 
 ' And where is the Custom House ?' in- 
 quired Selwyn. 
 
 ' Straight before you,' and the young 
 Assistant-Surveyor, guided by a wave of his 
 informant's hand, crossed in front of St. 
 George's Hall, and under a deluge of rain 
 strode along to his destination, which proved 
 to be in the very heart of Liverpool, close to 
 the Docks. There, in the midst of a labyrinth 
 of streets through which a motley crowd of 
 lounging sailors is continually passing, stands 
 the Custom House, a huge stone building, 
 which in addition to other attractions boasts 
 two porticoes, one facing due east, the other 
 due west. 
 
 The vast edifice is crowned by a tottering 
 dome which costs the Corporation for repairs 
 annually almost as much as is harvested in 
 rates from the district surrounding it. 
 
 ^ — 2
 
 36 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 In this pile the greater part of the Govern- 
 ment offices were formerly located, the por- 
 tion devoted to the Inland Revenue being 
 approached by an immense doorway under 
 the eastern fa9ade. 
 
 The quarter of Liverpool in which the 
 Custom House stands is neither picturesque 
 nor cheerful. In spite of the pleasant airs 
 which sometimes blow up from the river, a 
 perpetual grime seems to hang about it. 
 The Sailors' Home, from which it is divided 
 only by a narrow street, overshadows the 
 building ; and the throng of sailors, with 
 their following of dirty women, hawkers, 
 and fruit merchants, make up a scene which, 
 to put the matter mildly, is not captivating. 
 The doorway which gives access to the Inland 
 Revenue offices possesses the quality of 
 squalor in a more marked degree than the 
 rest of the building. Its steps reek with a 
 perpetual moisture, the walls of the lobby 
 within are of a dark nondescript colour which 
 baffles every effort to discover its original 
 hue ; and the staircase leading to the offices 
 winds gloomily aloft, till it seems to lose 
 itself in darkness.
 
 THIRD LIVERPOOL. 37 
 
 As Selwyn Serle climbed up these stairs 
 on the dreary afternoon of the day after his 
 introduction to Mr. Dandison, he did not 
 escape the influences of the place. He had 
 not formed a clear mental picture of what a 
 provincial tax-office would be like ; and his 
 experience of Somerset House on the pre- 
 vious day had so far upset his ideas about 
 Government offices in general that he re- 
 frained, on his journey down to Liverpool, 
 from anticipation. Nor did he now indulge 
 in any, though the way in which he whistled 
 sofdy to himself as he glanced round, and 
 pursued his way upstairs, was eminently sug- 
 gestive of astonishment. 
 
 At the top of the staircase he was con- 
 fronted by a swing-door ; pushing it open, he 
 found himself in a long corridor, on which 
 many offices opened. To his right hand the 
 wall was dead, but to the left another dark 
 gallery turned off; and Selwyn paused, in 
 doubt which to take. It was past two o'clock 
 — a time at which he had supposed office 
 work would be in full progress ; yet he stood 
 hesitating at the juncture of the passages for 
 five minutes without seeing a sign of life.
 
 38 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 At last he decided to follow the passage 
 which lay before him ; but at the same in- 
 stant a door at the further end opened, and 
 a stout man came out bareheaded, and ad- 
 vanced towards him with a heavy, rolling gait. 
 Before Selwyn could speak, however, he 
 dived suddenly into another room, the door 
 of which he banged after him. The new 
 Assistant tapped at the door, but received no 
 reply. 
 
 ' Deuce take it !' he thought, ' I may wan- 
 der about these corridors all day. This is a 
 public office, not an enchanted castle,' and 
 without more ado he pushed the door open 
 boldly, and entered the room. 
 
 A strange sight met his eyes — a sight so 
 strange he could only stand and stare. Close 
 to the window — thickly grimed with the dust 
 of years — stood the fat man, already stripped 
 to his shirtsleeves, holding up to the light what 
 appeared to be a very grimy white waistcoat. 
 Beside him was an office washstand, and a 
 basin half full of soapy water, with which he 
 clearly intended to restore the waistcoat to as 
 much of its original tint as age had left it. 
 A round-backed chair stood near at hand, on
 
 THIRD LIVERPOOL. 39 
 
 which were arranged several other articles of 
 underclothing, in process of drying. Selwyn 
 had hardly time to take in these details, when 
 the stout man turned furiously upon him, 
 puffing out his cheeks, and drawing up his 
 squat figure with an air of ludicrous pom- 
 posity. 
 
 * How dare you, sir, enter a private office 
 in this outrageous way ?' he sputtered. 
 
 ' I beg your pardon,' Selwyn answered. 
 
 * I should not have come in had the door been 
 marked " private." ' 
 
 ' It is not marked ** public," at any rate; 
 and you have been guilty of a piece of gross 
 impertinence — gross, sir !' 
 
 ' The sooner you put up some sort of notice 
 the better then,' retorted Selwyn. ' Where all 
 the doors are so much alike, you can hardly 
 expect strangers to know by Instinct they 
 are straying Into the official laundry.^ 
 
 'You are an Insolent fellow,' said the stout 
 man, glaring in an absurd way over the waist- 
 coat, which he held before him like a shield. 
 
 * Let me tell you that tone won't do with 
 me.' 
 
 ' I am quite Innocent of any wish to have
 
 40 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL, 
 
 to do with you,' was the reply. * I regret 
 having intruded, and I will go now.' 
 
 ' You had best, if you do not want to be 
 put out. In all my experience I never met 
 with such a ruffian.' 
 
 * Good-day,' answered Selwyn, laughing. 
 * I won't say good-bye, for perhaps I may see 
 you again when I want my clothes washed, 
 though the laundry does not seem very well 
 appointed. Appearances, however, are often 
 deceitful.' 
 
 * If I were younger I would undeceive you, 
 sir, in a way you would not relish,' said the 
 fat man venomously, his red face paling with 
 passion. * As it is, I will send for the police 
 unless you take yourself off at once.' 
 
 * Pray do not disturb the police. I dare say 
 they are asleep, like most of the people in 
 this place,' mocked Selwyn amiably. ' Good- 
 day, again. Next time we meet, I hope you 
 will be in a better humour,' and he turned to 
 the door, which was closed behind him with 
 a bang which echoed along the gloomy cor- 
 ridor as the sound of the policemen's merri- 
 ment had resounded up the staircase at 
 Somerset House.
 
 THIRD LIVERPOOL,' 41 
 
 'What an extraordinary first experience,' 
 thought the Assistant-Surveyor, as he stood 
 on the mat and heard the door locked and 
 double-locked behind him. ' '' God begin- 
 nynge maketh god endynge," quoth Hend- 
 ynge. Let us go a little further.' 
 
 He proceeded on his way down the gallery, 
 and came to a door on which was painted ' ]\Ir. 
 Thos. Rowcroft,' the opposite one being 
 adorned with the name of ' Mr. William 
 Sutton.' A few steps further, and he stopped 
 before a door on the left, on which was in- 
 scribed * Mr. Martin Trosdale.' Knocking 
 gently, he waited some time for a reply ; but, 
 save an indistinct murmur, which appeared to 
 be continuously going on in the room, there 
 was no response. His late experience made 
 him diffident, so he tapped a second time, and 
 again waited ; but, as there was still no 
 answer, he opened the door, and then paused, 
 expecting an invitation to enter. Finding no 
 invitation came, however, he took courage 
 and stepped across the threshold. 
 
 He found himself in a little pew-like en- 
 closure, formed by a counter, which cut off 
 access to the office. The room was remark-
 
 42 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL, 
 
 ably small superficially, but very lofty, and 
 had the appearance of being formed, as was, 
 in fact, the case, by taking away a portion of 
 the fine central hall of the building, in which 
 the clerical w^ork of the Customs was carried 
 on. A partition of wood and glass, rather 
 higher than a man's stature, divided the 
 office nearly into two, the outer portion being 
 almost completely filled by a large writing- 
 desk, and an enormous cupboard, with several 
 sliding doors. 
 
 There was no one in the outer office ; but 
 Selwyn heard a noise from behind the parti- 
 tion, as if some person had been disturbed by 
 his entry, but as that person did not appear 
 he rapped upon the counter with his 
 umbrella. 
 
 ' Is anyone there ?' asked a peevish voice. 
 
 ' There is,' replied Selwyn. 
 
 • What do you want ?' 
 
 ' I wish to see Mr. Trosdale.' 
 
 ' I am Mr. Trosdale,' replied the voice, in a 
 tone which seemed to imply, ' Now that 
 you hear how utterly weary I am^ and 
 how unfit to come out and interview you, 
 don't you think you had better go away V
 
 THIRD LIVERPOOL. 43 
 
 but as Selwyn did not take this hint, the 
 peevish voice continued, ' Is it something 
 about taxes ?' 
 
 * Well, yes. I am the bearer of a letter 
 from Mr. Dandison.' 
 
 * Oh, indeed,' and then a chair seemed to 
 be pushed back, and Mr. Trosdale himself 
 came round the partition. ' Then you are 
 Mr. Serle, my new Assistant,' he said In quite 
 a changed tone. ^ I am glad to see you. 
 Pray come in.' 
 
 Mr. Trosdale was a tall, largely made man, 
 of a slovenly habit. His shoulders drooped, 
 and his arms swung loosely down, as if he 
 had but little control over them. His head 
 was slightly bowed, and his gray hair long, 
 thin, and unkempt ; his blue eyes were faded 
 and sunken ; his whiskers ragged ; his com- 
 plexion was sallow, and he evidently had not 
 summed up sufficient energy that day to 
 shave. His face, indeed his whole figure, 
 was stamped with the superscription of dis- 
 content and disappointment. 
 
 These observations the newly-appointed 
 Assistant-Surveyor made in the act of accept- 
 ing his chiefs invitation to enter the Inner
 
 44 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 office. Mr. Trosdale placed a chair for him, 
 and wearily seating himself, asked : 
 ' Had you a pleasant journey ?' 
 
 * Fairly so, considering the weather.' 
 ' And do you like Liverpool Y 
 
 ' I have hardly been here an hour yet,' 
 Selwyn replied ; ' but I have no doubt I shall 
 like it well enough.' 
 
 ' You only came to-day ?' Mr. Trosdale 
 asked with some surprise. 
 
 ' I left London this morning, and came here 
 direct. Mr. Dandison gave me to under- 
 stand his letter was urgent.' 
 
 ' Yes !' And Mr. Trosdale broke the seal 
 of the letter and glanced over it. ' Mr. 
 Dandison speaks highly of your ability, 
 Mr. Serle,' he remarked ; ' he says he is con- 
 fident I shall find you most useful.' 
 
 * He is very kind.' 
 
 ' Where were you stationed before coming 
 here ? No doubt you have had considerable 
 experience of the work in a tax-office.' 
 
 ' I have had no such experience. I am 
 only newly appointed,' answered Selwyn 
 innocently. 
 
 * Good God !' exclaimed Mr. Trosdale ;
 
 THIRD LIVERPOOL. 45 
 
 ' this Is desperate ! Do you mean to say that 
 Dandlson has, spite of all my remonstrances, 
 again sent me an inexperienced Assistant ?' 
 
 ' It would appear so, certainly. Does he 
 not. say as much In his letter ?' 
 
 * Not a word of it !' the Surveyor groaned. 
 'Well, this is too bad !' He fell back In his 
 chair and glanced piteously at Selwyn, who 
 began to feel as uncomfortable as If his in- 
 experience were a crime. ' For years/ the 
 Surveyor went on solemnly, ' ever since I was 
 first appointed, I have been in Dandison's 
 black books. He killed my poor father : 
 killed him, slew him outright.' 
 
 * Impossible!' exclaimed Selwyn In horror. 
 ' It is quite possible, sir, for he did It,' 
 
 answered Mr. Trosdale. ' My poor father 
 was an Inspector, and it was nothing but the 
 barbarity of that man Dandlson which wore 
 him out and caused his death. Dandlson 
 has the same spite against me ; so he sends 
 an Ignorant lad to Liverpool, to the hardest- 
 worked district in England. It's an insult 
 to me, Mr. Serle, and a gross injury to 
 you. 
 
 * But, Mr. Trosdale/ Selwyn ventured, *an
 
 46 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 inexperienced Assistant must go somewhere 
 to learn his business.* 
 
 * He needn't come here, though !' retorted 
 Mr. Trosdale irascibly. ' We are waist 
 deep in work all the year long. We never 
 shall be anything but in arrear. There's 
 Cramsey, over opposite, a low-born, ill-bred 
 fellow (you'll know him one day) — there's 
 that man, as mean a scoundrel as ever lived ; 
 he can get experienced Assistants. And 
 why ? — because he cringes, fawns, sir, upon 
 Dandison, and everybody else who comes 
 here.' 
 
 ' Does Mr. Dandison often come down .'*' 
 
 ' Far too often. He's underhand ; he tries 
 to throw you off your guard, and then ap- 
 pears suddenly, when he thinks he is not 
 expected. We're always in arrears here ; 
 but I tell him as long as I have a district so 
 large as this, with no proper assistance, it is 
 useless to expect me to keep my work in 
 hand. And now he has chosen to send you 
 — why, he might as well have sent a child in 
 arms! However, it's not my affair; I wash 
 my hands of it.' 
 
 There was a large window in the office.
 
 THIRD LIVERPOOL. 47 
 
 which occupied nearly the whole of the side 
 facing the partition. It possessed a deep 
 wide sill, about breast high. As he finished 
 his peroration Mr. Trosdale rose and leaned 
 over the ledge, where he stood for several 
 minutes gazing down into the street. 
 
 * Well,' observed Selwyn, * it appears a bad 
 business ; but I must only try to learn my 
 work as fast as possible.' 
 
 * Oh, I can't attempt to teach you,' the 
 Surveyor rejoined. ' We have all far too 
 much to do to teach anybody anything.' 
 
 * Then how am I to learn my work ?' 
 asked the newcomer in dismay. 
 
 ' That is Dandison's affair, not mine.' 
 Selwyn made no answer ; he had, in fact, 
 none ready. The utter carelessness with 
 which the Surveyor disclaimed all respon- 
 sibility about his welfare abashed him. It 
 was now clear what Mr. Trosdale meant by 
 saying it was ' an injury ' to send him to such 
 a district. The words had puzzled him when 
 they were spoken. An injury indeed, if he 
 were to be left without instruction in his duties, 
 to pick up only such crumbs of knowledge 
 as he could glean by means of his own wits.
 
 48 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 He was about to venture another question, 
 when the door of the outer office opened, and 
 some one entered laughing boisterously, and 
 slamming the door violently behind him. 
 
 * That Is Mr. Thistlethwaite,' observed the 
 Surveyor. ' Thistlethw^aite, just come round 
 here, will you.' 
 
 The person whom he addressed did not 
 comply wdth this request till he had again 
 opened the door and shouted a jest after the 
 friend from whom he had parted in the 
 passage, and who in his turn came back and 
 entered into a conversation carried on In 
 whispers, with much merriment and a spice 
 of bad language. 
 
 Mr. Trosdale evinced great Impatience 
 during the course of this colloquy ; he 
 frowned, rapped loudly on the window-ledge, 
 and once or twice called out ' Mr. Thistle- 
 thwaite !' in a deprecatory tone. 
 
 Mr. Thistlethwaite, how^ever, finished his 
 dialogue before he paid the smallest attention 
 to the Surveyor's request, and when he did 
 come round the partition was still laughing 
 at his friend's last remark. 
 
 • Dandison has sent me a new Assistant/
 
 THIRD LIVERPOOL. 49 
 
 began Mr. Trosdale, plunging into his 
 grievance at once. ^ This is Mr. Serle.' 
 
 Selwyn stood up and shook hands, an 
 attention which Thistlethwaite apparently 
 did not expect. He accepted the politeness, 
 however, and then, turning to the Surveyor, 
 asked anxiously : 
 
 ' What experience has Mr. Serle had ?' 
 
 * None at all.' 
 
 ' Does Dandison mean to do the work 
 himself, then ?' 
 
 The Surveyor shook his head mourn- 
 fully. 
 
 ' I won't,' declared Thistlethwaite. ' I've 
 worked like a slave in this office in my time^ 
 and I won't do it again for any man alive^ 
 even for you, Mr. Trosdale. If Dandison 
 wants extra work done, he may pay for it.' 
 
 ' I don't know what the end of all this will 
 be, I am sure,' said the Surveyor gloomily, 
 and as if to emphasize his words he took 
 down his hat from a peg behind his chair 
 and put it on. 
 
 ' / don't either,' observed Thistlethwaite, 
 and went back into the outer office, shaking 
 his head. 
 
 VOL. I. 4
 
 50 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 There ensued an awkward silence, which 
 Mr. Trosdale broke by saying : 
 
 ' You had better see if you cannot find lodg- 
 ings this afternoon, Mr. Serle. I should 
 like you to be here as early as possible to- 
 morrow — say about half-past nine. Good- 
 day.' 
 
 * Shall you come back before we close ?' 
 asked Thistlethwaite. 
 
 ' I think not.' 
 
 When the Surveyor had gone, Thistle- 
 thwaite observed : 
 
 ' So you are only newly appointed.' 
 
 * I received my appointment yesterday.' 
 
 ' Most unfair to you to send you here then. 
 It's just the kind of thing, though, Dandison 
 is always doing.' 
 
 * Is the work really so hard ?' 
 
 ' I wish to heaven I was out of it, that's 
 all. I shan't stay long — I've had about 
 enough of the whole thing.'
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HER MAJESTY S SERVANTS. 
 
 FTER some hours spent In travers- 
 ing the streets and suburbs of 
 the town, more dreary than usual 
 by reason of the rain which fell per- 
 sistently, Selwyn secured a lodging which 
 came within his means, transferred his lug- 
 gage to it, dined on a steak swimming in 
 grease, spent an evening not the least 
 wretched of his life, and retired to bed to be 
 kept awake from two o'clock until seven by 
 the crowing of a ferocious cock, which seemed 
 to have no greater wish on earth than to pro- 
 claim his private affairs to an unappreciative 
 world. He rose at eight, unrefreshed and 
 jaded ; and having lodged a mild protest with 
 his landlady regarding the conduct of her 
 
 4—2 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 iiilNOlS UBRARY
 
 52 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 fowls, which she informed him belonged to a 
 neighbour, he set out to walk to his office. 
 
 The door was not open when he arrived 
 there punctually at the time indicated by the 
 Surveyor, and he saw no one about, whom he 
 could ask for the key. It was ten minutes to 
 ten when a young man appeared, bustling 
 down the passage as much out of breath as if 
 he had run all the way from his home, where- 
 ever it might be situated. 
 
 ' Good-morning,' he said. ' I suppose you 
 are Mr. Serle, our new Assistant. My name 
 is Holt. Trosdale hasn't come, has he ?' he 
 added anxiously. 
 
 ' I have not seen him,' answered Selwyn. 
 
 * That's lucky ! I'm hardly ever late ; but 
 I met my bootmaker this morning and had 
 to dodge him. Isn't the key there .^ Tom 
 must have got it. Look here, I'll show you 
 where you can always find it.' 
 
 And he hurried off up the passage, followed 
 by Selwyn. Turning along the corridor 
 which led, as the new-comer subsequently 
 learnt, to the pay-office, he stopped at a 
 small room, out of which came a sickening 
 gush of hot bacon fat, oil, and tallow candles.
 
 HER MAJESTY'S SERVANTS. 53 
 
 * Pish ! what a stench,' said Holt, entering 
 the room, nevertheless, and going to a drawer, 
 which he opened. ' See, No. 7 is ours.' 
 And he took out several keys, one of which 
 he selected. Then, observing that Selwyn 
 had not come further than the door, he re- 
 marked : 
 
 *Ay, it does smell beastly. I wonder 
 Tom can stand it himself. Isn't it queer 
 that old Burgess doesn't stop it .^ His 
 room's just round the corner.' 
 
 ' Who is Burgess ?' 
 
 ' Why, he's the Collector, you know, head 
 boss of the Inland Revenue in Liverpool. 
 You'll know all about him soon. Why there 
 isn't a man under him in the building who 
 doesn't hate him. Lucky for us that we're 
 not.' 
 
 ' I thought 3^ou said he was head boss over 
 the Inland Revenue.' 
 
 'Ah! but I didn't mean the taxes. The 
 Surveyors aren't under him.' Then, as he 
 unlocked the door. ' It's jolly lucky Tros- 
 dale's not here yet. He isn't often so late. 
 Why, it must be ten o'clock.' 
 
 * It is,' said Selwyn, with calm certainty.
 
 54 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 In half a minute after he opened the ofiice 
 door Mr. Holt had taken his hat and coat 
 off, opened the cupboard doors, drago^ed out 
 a heap of papers, covered his desk with 
 them, and seizing a pen, began to write with 
 an air which defied doubt as to his having 
 been at work for the last half-an-hour at all 
 events. 
 
 ' Now he may come as soon as he pleases,' 
 said this conscientious person to Selwyn, who 
 understood the 'he' referred to meant Mr. 
 Trosdale. 
 
 It w^as not long before he did come, not 
 apparently in the best of tempers. He cast 
 a quick glance round the office from beneath 
 his shaggy eyebrows as he entered, answer- 
 ing Selwyn's rather timid ' Good-morning ' 
 with a brusque nod. 
 
 ' Thistlethwaite not here yet ?' he asked 
 sharply. 
 
 ' Not yet,' said Holt, without looking up 
 from his work. 
 
 ' What time did he leave last night ?' 
 
 * Not before half-past six ; I was here till 
 then.' 
 
 Now Mr. Trosdale knew better than this.
 
 HER MAJESTY'S SERVANTS. 55 
 
 having passed beneath his office windows at 
 a quarter to six, and seen no hght in them. 
 He frowned, but said nothing ; then he turned 
 to Selwyn, who stood beside the fire, which 
 seemed grateful in such wretched weatxer. 
 
 ' I am going to an appeal meeting to-day, 
 Mr. Serle, so Thistlethwaite must show you 
 what to do when he comes. I shall be 
 obliged if you will get through as much as 
 you can of the work he gives you. I am sure 
 I don't know how it happens that we are 
 always so much in arrear. We need not be, 
 were Thistlethwe.ite only regular.' 
 
 * Is he not regular ?' ventured Selwyn. 
 
 ' Oh dear no ! Nobody is regular who 
 comes here,' said the Surveyor impatiently, 
 sitting down at his desk and keeping his over- 
 coat and hat on while he rummaged among 
 drawers full of papers. 
 
 ^ Just tie up those assessments for me, Holt, 
 and fetch a cab,' he said presently ; and then 
 as Holt departed with alacrity upon this 
 errand, he asked civilly : 
 
 'Did you find lodgings to suit you, Mr. 
 Serle ?' 
 
 ' Yes, thank you,' answered Selwyn ; ^ they
 
 56 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL, 
 
 are not very grand, but I dare say they are as 
 good as I am likely to get.' 
 
 ' Ah 1 well,' the Surveyor replied in- 
 differently, as he took up his papers, ' if they 
 do not suit you, you can change. Where did 
 you say they were ?' 
 
 ' In Queen's Road.' 
 
 * A good neighbourhood. I shall see you 
 again this afternoon, I expect. Tell Thistle- 
 thwaite, when he comes, that I shall be back, 
 and ask him not to go till he sees me.' 
 
 And with this parting injunction, Mr. 
 Trosdale shouldered his bundle of assess- 
 ments and marched off to his cab. Holt, 
 however, did not appear again for so long 
 that Selwyn thought Mr. Trosdale must 
 have taken him with him. Ten minutes 
 passed, a quarter of an hour, half an hour, 
 eleven o'clock struck, yet no sign of either 
 Thistlethw^aite or Holt. Selwyn began to 
 feel uneasy at being alone in the office, and 
 wondered what he should do if a wrath- 
 ful taxpayer suddenly appeared and wanted 
 to know something, of which he, Mr. Serle, 
 had no knowledge. 
 
 At twenty minutes past eleven the door
 
 HER MAJESTY'S SERVANTS 57 
 
 flew open violently and Thistlethwaite 
 entered, looking seedier, if possible, than 
 on the previous day. His brown coat was 
 flying open, and revealed a wide expanse of 
 soiled red necktie with no pin in it. His 
 hat was thrust back on his head, and his eyes 
 were heavy and bloodshot, as if he had not 
 been in bed. 
 
 ' Hillo, Mr. Serle !' he said, laughing, ' are 
 you left in charge '^. This is a pretty go. 
 Why, Where's Holt ?' 
 
 * I don't know,' answered Selwyn. * He 
 went out about half-past ten to fetch a cab 
 for Mr. Trosdale, and he has not come back.' 
 
 ' In the Slippers, I'll be bound,' said 
 Thistlethwaite meditatively. 
 
 * Is that a branch of the Custom House .'^' 
 
 ' Yes,' the other answered with a grin. 
 * I'll just go and see whether he's there.' 
 
 ' I say — hold on !' cried Selwyn. ' What 
 am I to do ?' 
 
 But it was too late ; the door had slammed, 
 and Thistlethwaite was gone. There was no 
 help for it. He was the only person left 
 available to answer inquiries. He retreated 
 behind the partition, in order that he might
 
 58 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL, 
 
 be out of sight in case anyone did come, and 
 so ealn a moment's time for consideration. 
 
 Behind the partition there was no other 
 occupation than the window, unless he ex- 
 amined the papers left scattered over Mr. 
 Trosdale's desk, which he did not feel inclined 
 to do. The window looked out upon a wide 
 open space — a quadrangle wanting one side 
 — formed by the projecting wings of the 
 Custom House, in the main body of which 
 the Surveyor's offices were situated. Across 
 this space a public footway ran, passing 
 under an archway in the centre of the build- 
 ing and emerging in Castle Street. The 
 footpath occupied, however, a very small por- 
 tion of the space, the remainder being some- 
 times used for storing Corporation rubbish, 
 blocks of timber, rusty anchors, piles of 
 stones, and such accumulations of odds and 
 ends as Corporations (and private individuals) 
 keep, out of some superstitious Idea that they 
 may one day prove of use. 
 
 It is no uncommon thing for an itinerant 
 juggler to deposit his properties upon this 
 space, which proves, in fact, a very lucrative 
 ground for displays of such a nature, owing
 
 HER MAJESTY'S SERVANTS. S9 
 
 to its propinquity to the idle crowd which is 
 always thronging round the Sailors' Home. 
 There may often also be seen a thin, melancholy 
 man eating burning tow, and reproducing 
 yards of pink paper done up into an artful 
 spiral from his mouth. Sometimes it is a 
 negro who takes up his stand, tossing swede- 
 turnips into the air, and splitting them on his 
 forehead as they fall ; sometimes a strong 
 man rolling cannon balls up his arms, and 
 round his shoulders and the back of his neck ; 
 sometimes a wandering medicine man with 
 two bottles, which he endeavours to persuade 
 you represent the contents of a human 
 stomach, before and after swallowing his 
 drugs. But whoever may come, juggler or 
 man of science, preacher or fighting bully, he 
 never fails of attracting a crowd of ad- 
 mirers, followed by a plentiful harvest of 
 pence. 
 
 On that forenoon Selwyn was not favoured 
 with any of these more exciting sights ; but 
 he was privileged to witness a very Interest- 
 ing hunt. In which the quarry was a small 
 child with a preposterously dirty pinafore, and 
 the hunter a strapping woman, who pursued
 
 6o THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 the child with the avowed intention of thrash- 
 ing it within an inch of its life. 
 
 Selwyn was becoming absorbed in watch- 
 ing the chase when he heard the office door 
 open, and someone enter. No one spoke, 
 but the noise which the door made was 
 followed by a strange shuffling sound, as if 
 the visitor were kicking the wall with all his 
 might. Selwyn looked cautiously round the 
 corner of the partition and beheld a tall 
 young man kicking his right foot against 
 a pillar, which was half in Mr. Trosdale's 
 outer office and half in the Long Room of the 
 Custom House. The man threw his foot up 
 so high that it was a marvel how he managed 
 to maintain his balance, and even then he 
 was not satisfied, for he struggled violently to 
 touch a still loftier point on the pillar. After 
 spending about a minute in this exercise, 
 during which time he had taken not the 
 smallest notice of Selwyn, he drew a stumpy 
 pencil out of his pocket, made a mark upon 
 the column, and went out without a word, 
 The door had hardly closed upon him, how- 
 ever, when he came back, and hitching his 
 thumbs into the armholes of his waistcoat.
 
 HER MAJESTY'S SERVANTS. 6i 
 
 demanded with great emphasis and in a strong 
 Irish accent : 
 
 'Well, young man, and how's the bloddy 
 tax ?' 
 
 Selwyn, though somewhat taken aback, 
 answered with considerable presence of mind : 
 
 ' Really, I should think you must know- 
 more about it than I.' 
 
 ' Why, now ?' asked his visitor, scrutinizing 
 Selwyn sharply, with his head thrown a trifle 
 back. 
 
 * Because I am a stranger to the place and 
 the work ; and I suppose, from the exercise 
 in which I have just seen you engaged, that 
 you are not.' 
 
 ' You're right, young man. Devil a stranger 
 / am here,' replied the other. * My name's 
 Kerry, and I'm the Assistant in Second 
 Liverpool over opposite. You're Trosdale's 
 new calf, I'm thinking ?' And having uttered 
 these words, Mr. Kerry seated himself upon 
 the counter and began whistling * The Yellow 
 Blanket.' 
 
 As he did not seem to expect any answer 
 Selwyn did not return one, but devoted him- 
 self to examining a person he regarded as
 
 02 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 the latest lunatic In a building tenanted by- 
 maniacs. Mr. Kerry was tall and lean, 
 almost (If the expression may be permitted) 
 rawboned. He seemed to belong to that 
 particular class of North of Ireland natives 
 who are never tired of boasting of their 
 Scotch origin. That Mr. Kerry had some 
 rieht to claim Scotch blood was evident from 
 his high cheekbones, sandy hair, and light 
 blue eyes, which had a trick of contracting 
 themselves till they looked incredibly mean. 
 In fact, this poverty of appearance w^as shared 
 by all his features, which were pinched where 
 they ought to have been full and round, 
 and gave an irresistible impression that 
 the material of which he was made ran 
 short, and had to be drawn out. The 
 sleeves of his coat were too short for him, 
 while those of his vest, which Mr. Kerry, for 
 purposes of economy and comfort, had rolled 
 up, though not out of sight, w^ere as much too 
 long. Such was the Assistant-Surveyor of 
 the second Liverpool district, as he met our 
 hero's astonished gaze, sitting on the counter 
 with his hands in the armholes of his waist- 
 coat, whistling one of his national melodies.
 
 HER MAJESTY'S SERVAJ^JTS. 63 
 
 * Where are you going for dinner, young 
 man ?' Mr. Kerry at length asked affably, 
 resuming his whistling without waiting for 
 Selwyn's answer. 
 
 ' I'm sure I do not know. Is it not rather 
 soon to be thinking of dinner yet ?' 
 
 * Ah !' said Mr. Kerry, in a tone which 
 showed more capacity for tender longing than 
 Selwyn could have imagined he possessed. 
 ' There isn't much else to think about here. 
 I tell you what, we'll go upstairs together, 
 you and me. At ten minutes to one, mind 
 you !' and he shook his forefinger at Selwyn. 
 * Not a minute later, or devil a dinner you'll 
 get up there for those hungry thieves out of 
 the Long Room.' 
 
 Having so spoken, Mr. Kerry descended 
 from the counter, and after one refreshing 
 kick on the pillar, opened the door. He 
 had not space, however, to pass out, for at 
 that moment Thistlethwaite appeared in the 
 doorway, followed by Holt, wiping his mouth 
 as he came in. They elbowed past Kerry, 
 who stood regarding them with an air of 
 serious gravity, holding the door open in his 
 hand.
 
 64 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 Ms It at the Slippers you've been, the 
 pair of you ?' he asked severely. ' You'll get 
 the sack, Holt, as sure's my name's Daniel 
 Kerry. Trosdale '11 find you out, and drop on 
 you like a peregrine drops on a gull. And 
 well ye'll deserve it. Did you ever see a 
 peregrine now, Holt .^' 
 
 * Ah, shut up !' exclaimed Holt, recipro- 
 cating these evil forebodings with an assess- 
 ment, which struck the wall just beside Mr. 
 Kerry's head, of which attention that gentle- 
 man took not the smallest notice, but remarked 
 to Selwyn : 
 
 ' It's at ten to one we're goin' upstairs, 
 young man. I'll show you the way, for it's 
 soft and green you are this day — green as a 
 gosling,' and sauntered out, leaving the door 
 open behind him, after the habit of his country. 
 
 ' He's right enough about you, Holt,' said 
 Thistlethwaite, in the tone of one having 
 authority. 
 
 Holt made no answer, but looked glum 
 and angry as he drew his papers towards 
 him and began to write. 
 
 ' I suppose you know who that Is, Mr. 
 Serle ?' said Thistlethwaite.
 
 HER MAJESTY'S SERVANTS. 65 
 
 ' Yes, he told me. He seems a very queer 
 fellow.' 
 
 ' You should see him come in and kick the 
 pillar!' 
 
 ' He was kicking it this morning.' 
 
 * No! was he .^' Thisdethwaite exclaimed, 
 then looking at the column he added, ' ay> 
 sure enough, here's his scrawl, with the date 
 too, " D. K., — , 1879." Blast him, I won't 
 have his Egyptian inscriptions here ! Let 
 him go and kick in his own office, or else 
 rig up a pillar for himself.' So saying Mr. 
 Thistlethwaite took out a pencil and scored 
 through the ' Egyptian inscription ' in every 
 direction, till it was illegible. ' Trosdale 
 didn't take you round to the other offices this 
 morning, did he T he inquired. 
 
 ' No, I suppose he had not time. He went 
 off so early.' 
 
 ' Ah ! perhaps he will do it this afternoon. 
 Did he say whether he was coming back ?' 
 
 Selwyn repeated the message he had 
 been charged with. 
 
 * Oh, well! you may as well get on with 
 these returns to-day. I'll show you how to 
 do them.' 
 
 VOL. I. 5
 
 66 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 For the next hour silence reigned in the 
 office ; Selwyn laid himself closely to the work 
 which had been given him, and found with 
 surprise how mechanical it was. It consisted 
 merely of copying names from a list into 
 blank spaces on printed forms, folding the 
 forms up and addressing them. In this en- 
 ticing occupation time passed quickly, till 
 precisely at ten minutes to one Mr. Kerry 
 put his head into the office and remarked 
 laconically : 
 
 ' I'm ready for you.' 
 
 The dining-room upstairs was a large 
 room, along one side of which, for the greater 
 convenience of carving, ran a counter. There 
 was already a good attendance, which would, 
 as Mr. Kerry explained, be largely increased 
 at one o'clock, when the clerks from the 
 Long Room were set free to dine. 
 
 ' And it's a good thing for us,' he observed, 
 * that we're here before those ravenous devils. 
 Susan ! you'll bring me my potato pie, and 
 another of the same for this friend of 
 mine.' 
 
 The damsel whom he addressed bridled 
 and tossed back her untidy head, as she
 
 HER MAJESTY'S SERVANTS. 67 
 
 placed knives and forks before them on the 
 grimy tablecloth. 
 
 ' There isn't any potato pies to-day/ she 
 said. 
 
 ' You lie !' said Kerry, forgetful of his 
 chivalry ; ' there's twenty at the least. I saw 
 them as I came in. You're keeping them for 
 them murderin' scoundrels of assassins out 
 of the Long Room. Now I'll make a com- 
 plaint against you unless you bring those two 
 pies here at once.' 
 
 He shook his finger, and the girl brought 
 the pies unwillingly. Mr. Kerry did not 
 vouchsafe any further remarks till the delicacy 
 was quite half done, when he said with awful 
 impressiveness : 
 
 ' Don't let yourself be put upon, young 
 man, and nobody '11 put upon you.' 
 
 When nothing remained of the pie except 
 a fragment of half-baked crust Mr. Kerry 
 crossed his knife and fork on his plate and 
 addressed himself to Selwyn : 
 
 * Have you seen any of the Surveyors 
 except your own governor ?' he asked. 
 
 * No, I suppose Mr. Trosdale went away 
 too early to take me round.' 
 
 5—2
 
 68 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 * Ay, and he'll come back too late, and 
 to-morrow it'll be too early and too late 
 again. Listen to a bit of advice : if you're 
 waiting for Trosdale to scratch your back for 
 you, you'd better do it yourself. There, look ! 
 there's the villains of the Long Room. 
 We'll get out of this ; they sicken me, they 
 do :' to prevent which catastrophe they went 
 downstairs. In the passage Kerry said : 
 * You haven't seen my man, old Davey, Fourth 
 Liverpool, yet. Come along in with me ' And 
 they entered the office opposite Mr. Trosdale's, 
 on the door of which appeared ' Mr. D. 
 Cramsey.' The room was arranged in 
 precisely the same manner as Mr. Tros- 
 dale's. Passing round the partition, Kerry, 
 according to his invariable custom, hitched 
 his hands up into the armholes of his waist- 
 coat, and in the same oily voice which Selwyn 
 had previously remarked, asked suavely : 'Well, 
 Mr. Cramsey, and how's the bloddy tax ?' 
 
 The person addressed looked up for an 
 instant, then saying gruffly : * I want none of 
 your obscenity here,' subsided again into his 
 work. 
 
 Mr. Cramsey as he sat at his desk appeared
 
 HER MAJESTY S SERVANTS. 69 
 
 to be a person of short stature but of ponder- 
 ous girth. He was partially bald, or, as i\Ir. 
 Kerry more delicately phrased the matter, 
 'his head was growing up through his hair.' 
 But if his head was rather destitute of its 
 proper covering, his face did much to make 
 up the average ; for it shone forth from a 
 waste of close-cropped beard and whiskers 
 like a beacon-fire blazing on a dark moor. 
 He was not only largely made, but so obese 
 that his neck lay in a thick fold over his 
 collar, effectually hiding it — a great economy 
 in washing. The profits of the laundress 
 were, indeed, a source of great vexation to 
 * old Davy,' who endeavoured by every means 
 in his power to diminish them by substituting 
 his own labour for hers. 
 
 * This young man's the new Assistant 
 they've sent down to Trosdale/ Mr. Kerry 
 remarked, leaning back against the wall. 
 
 * Eh .^' snorted Mr. Cramsey, without 
 looking up. ' Glad to see you !' he added, 
 in the tone in which he might have said, ' It 
 is a fine morning,' to the conductor of his 
 particular 'bus ; or ' It is a wet day,' to a 
 porter at Tithebarn Street Station.
 
 70 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 As for Selwyn, he no sooner set eyes 
 on Mr. Cramsey than he recognised the 
 stout man whom he had encountered in the 
 passage the previous day, and remember- 
 ing the terms on which they parted, he 
 would have given much to steal away. This 
 he might readily have done, for Mr. Cramsey's 
 manners were not of the purest cast ; and 
 after his gruff answer to Mr. Kerry he 
 resumed his work without noticing by whom 
 his assistant was accompanied. Mentally, 
 Selwyn thanked Providence for this, and 
 twitched Mr. Kerry by the sleeve, making 
 slens to him to leave the room. But Mr. 
 Kerry did not understand. 
 
 * This young man's the new Assistant 
 they've sent down to Trosdale,' he repeated, 
 still leaning gracefully against the wall. 
 ' He'll have a fine easy time of it, I'm 
 thinking. What are you pulling my coat 
 for, you snipe .^ Stand quiet, can't you ! The 
 Surveyor's very glad to see you, though he 
 doesn't say so ; there's no call to be thinking 
 about going when we've only just come. 
 What's wrong with you, Mr. Cramsey ? — 
 sure, you're not well !'
 
 HER MAJESTY'S SERVANTS. 71 
 
 Which last remark was elicited by the Sur- 
 veyor's behaviour. Mr. Cramsey had grown 
 suddenly purple, and his cheeks were puffed 
 out to twice their natural size. He grasped 
 his desk with both hands and half rose, 
 at the same time saying in a loud voice : 
 
 ' You had better take care, Daniel Kerry, 
 how you have any dealings with Mr. Tros- 
 dale's new Assistant,' uttering the last three 
 words with a marked emphasis, as If there 
 were some cutting hidden satire In them. 
 ' Like master like man, you know ; and it's 
 my belief they are mighty well matched.' 
 
 ' It's a bitter spite you have against Tros- 
 dale, I know/ observed Mr. Kerry medita- 
 tively ; * but why you should have one against 
 this decent young man beats me entirely.' 
 
 * Never you mind,' rejoined Mr. Cramsey, 
 sitting down to his work again ; ' take the 
 young man away, and tell him not to come 
 here again.' 
 
 * I was unfortunate enough to cause Mr. 
 Cramsey some annoyance yesterday,' said 
 Selwyn, thinking It time to assert his right to 
 a share in the conversation, ' and I fear he 
 has not forgiven me yet.'
 
 72 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 Of this remark Mr. Cramsey took no 
 notice, except by a loud snorting noise, which 
 he made by drawing a deep breath and ex- 
 pelling it sharply from between his pursed 
 up lips. 
 
 * If you have once offended him he never 
 will, worse luck,' replied Mr. Kerry, looking 
 from one to the other with a face of grave 
 concern. ' Come along out of this ; we'll get 
 no good here. Old Davy's in the blues to- 
 day.' 
 
 * What was it you done on Cramsey ?' he 
 asked, as soon as they were in the passage. 
 When Selwyn told him, he gloomily remarked, 
 with a wise shake of his head, ' It's a bad job 
 — it's a very bad job.'
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 MR. KERRY AT HOME. 
 
 R. KERRY'S prophecy regarding 
 Trosdale's return proved as valu- 
 able a forecast of the truth as pro- 
 phecies usually do when made without pre- 
 vious knowledge. The Surveyor did return ; 
 he came back depressed and very irritable, and 
 he made no proposal to introduce Selwyn to 
 any of his colleagues. He signed hastily 
 the papers which Thistlethwaite laid before 
 him, sitting, as he did so, with his hat and 
 overcoat on, as seemed his custom, and then 
 went away, nodding to Selwyn, and ob- 
 serving to Thistlethwaite that he should not 
 be back. 
 
 The door had barely closed behind him 
 when Selwyn, sitting in the inner office,
 
 74 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 heard a loud guffaw from Holt, following 
 some cynical remark made in a sneering voice 
 by Thistlethwaite, which seemed to have 
 reference to the Surveyor, for Holt an- 
 swered : 
 
 ' Ay, he doesn't care ; but, hang it, he's not 
 a bad fellow at bottom.' 
 
 ' Bottom or top/ Thistlethwaite answered 
 angrily, ' I don't care. I only know this, 
 that I'm not going to slave myself into an 
 ague for him, while he goes away like this. 
 
 I did it once, but by I'll not do it 
 
 again.' 
 
 ' But it's all right enough for you/ Holt 
 said enviously. 
 
 * Right ! It's all wrong. But I shan't be 
 here long.' 
 
 After which Selwyn heard him rise from 
 his chair. 
 
 * Aren't you coming back ?' said Holt. 
 * Am I to shut up ?' 
 
 ' You may do what the devil you please/ 
 was the obliging answer, as Thistlethwaite 
 slammed the door after him. 
 
 'Here, stop a bit!' cried Holt, following 
 him quickly.
 
 MR, KERRY AT HOME. 75 
 
 Selwyn concluded that he had only gone 
 after Thistlethwalte to ask him some question, 
 and expected every minute to hear him come 
 back. Half an hour, however, sped by, and 
 another followed it, and there was no sign of 
 either of the clerks. Perfect stillness reigned 
 throughout the building ; the afternoon wore 
 away. It was nearly six o'clock, and Selwyn 
 was still alone. A feeling of desolation crept 
 over him : he rose and looked out from the 
 window, across the open space. The street 
 beyond was filled with men hurrying home- 
 wards ; and as he watched he heard the hour 
 strike. The strokes were followed by the 
 clanging of a bell, and that by a loud hum 
 and the tramping of many feet, as the dock 
 labourers poured forth from the sheds, released 
 from work. Everyone of them, Selwyn 
 thought, had some friend to talk with, some 
 diversion or occupation for the evening, some- 
 one who would watch for his return ; and yet 
 he — so differently born, so differently bred — 
 was quite alone. 
 
 He felt very desolate, this newly-appointed 
 Civil Servant. It was indeed a strange re- 
 ception he had met with.
 
 76 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 He had formed no large expectations. He 
 had known that on taking up his appointment 
 his Hfe would be for the first time in his own 
 hands, to make or to mar. He did not seek 
 for any other person to share his responsi- 
 bility ; but he could not help feeling rather 
 bitterly that Mr. Trosdale was acting most 
 coldly towards him. Some show of interest 
 in the welfare of a young man thrown on his 
 hands would have been kind and graceful. 
 How easy, he reflected, it would have 
 been for the Surveyor to tell him where to 
 find lodgings, to show him some attention 
 which would take the chill off the first plunge 
 into a great town — Liverpool was not then a 
 city — full of strangers. He was not bound to 
 do anything of the kind, of course ; it was 
 not really any concern of Mr. Trosdale's 
 whether his Assistant fell amonor thieves for 
 want of the guidance of an older man. The 
 Surveyor had no responsibility in the matter ; 
 and yet — and yet how kind it would have 
 been, Selwyn felt, if he had accepted some ! 
 
 The new Assistant was ruminating in this 
 strain when the outer door opened. Thinking 
 it was one of the clerks returned, Selwvn did
 
 MR. KERRY AT HOME. 77 
 
 not move ; but it was neither Holt's voice 
 nor Thistlethwaite's that remarked contemp- 
 tuously : 
 
 ' They're silly devils here ! Sure, they've 
 gone away and left all their assessments open T 
 
 Selwyn's heart warmed even towards Mr. 
 Kerry at this moment, and he went round 
 the partition softly. 
 
 * Hollo, Kerry !' said he. 
 
 Mr. Kerry started back suddenly. 
 
 ' Holy St. Bridget!' he exclaimed. 'And 
 who may you be?' 
 
 ' Who should I be, but myself ?' answered 
 Selwyn. ' I'm neither a ghost nor a thief; 
 but only a discontented Assistant-Surveyor.' 
 
 * Sure, it's that young snipe of a Serle !' 
 cried Mr. Kerry, relieved. ' How you fright- 
 ened me ! Are you discontented already .'* — 
 though that's not much wonder. What are 
 you doing, sitting here after hours, man ? 
 And where's the other fellows ?' 
 
 * Such a lot of questions !' Serle replied 
 merrily, cheered by the Irishman's friendly 
 voice. ' And not one among them that I can 
 answer. I don't know where the other fellows 
 are ; gone home, I suppose.'
 
 78 THE GOVEFNMENT OFFICIAL, 
 
 * And why don't you go too ?' 
 
 * I scarcely know. I waited some time to 
 see if anyone would come back ; and then I 
 fell to thinking.' 
 
 ' That's a foolish thing to do,' observed Mr. 
 Kerry drily. He had seated himself as usual 
 on the counter, and now began to whistle 
 ' Garryowen.' 
 
 Selwyn kept silence, not being prepared to 
 argue the point. 
 
 ' It's lonesome here!' observed Mr. Kerry 
 gravely, after a short interval. 
 
 Selwyn burst out laughing. The tone in 
 which Mr. Kerry made this profound remark 
 struck him as comical. 
 
 * How did you discover that ?' he asked. 
 Mr. Kerry made no direct answer, but 
 
 springing clumsily off the counter, seized 
 hold of the papers which were lying scattered 
 about the office. 
 
 ' Here, young man, lend a hand,' he said, 
 * we'll put these things away anyhow, and then 
 Holt '11 have to sort them out to-morrow. 
 Serve him right, the lazy hound !' 
 
 He shovelled everything haphazard into 
 the cupboard as he spoke. The keys were
 
 MR. KERRY AT HOME. 79 
 
 hanging" In the door, and as Mr. Kerry 
 turned them with a snap, he observed : 
 
 ' Put these in your pocket, and take my 
 advice. You just come down late to-morrow 
 morning, so as Thistlethwalte and Holt can't 
 get a blessed thing before Trosdale comes ; 
 and then you'll see Trosdale will have them.' 
 
 This was said with such evident enjoyment 
 In anticipating the scene that Selwyn laughed 
 again. 
 
 ' Now then,' said Mr. Kerry, when they 
 had emerged into the gloomy passage and 
 were groping their way out of the building ; 
 * will you come to tea with me, or will I go 
 to tea with you ?' 
 
 ' Well, my rooms are In such a mess,' said 
 Selwyn, taken quite aback. * I haven't had 
 time to arrange anything. So, If you don't 
 mind, I would rather have tea with you to- 
 night.' 
 
 *Sure, I'll be very glad,' Mr. Kerry said, 
 feeling perhaps a trifle disappointed, for he 
 loved change of any kind. * It's not far,^ he 
 added. ' You'll not know what street this is, 
 maybe ' 
 
 Selwyn shook his head.
 
 So THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 ' It's Juke Street,' explained Mr. Kerry, 
 meaning Duke Street, ' and there isn't any 
 man alive knows how old it is/ 
 
 This w^as probably an overstatement of 
 the truth ; for the origin of any street can 
 hardly be lost in obscurity. But, indeed, the 
 houses were very old, and belonged to an 
 age when buildings were more spacious and 
 substantial than they are now, and the 
 decorations placed in them were a labour 
 performed for love far more than for money. 
 They had fallen sadly in the social scale, 
 however ; some were turned into taverns, and 
 many more were sailors' lodging-houses. 
 The doors of most of them stood open, and 
 Selwyn could see, in passing, broad stair- 
 cases rising out of spacious halls wains- 
 coted with dark oak which time had stained 
 with the richest colouring. 
 
 Mr. Kerry lodged in what had once been 
 a mansion at the upper end of this street, 
 near the point where the ground rises in 
 a steep hill towards the better part of the 
 town. It presented a dilapidated appearance 
 from without, and looked as if it had sustained 
 a siege. Four steps led up to the door, but
 
 MR. KERRY AT HOME. 8i 
 
 they were worn Into such deep hollows that 
 it was not easy to discover where to put a 
 foot with safety. The railings, too, had lost 
 their supports, and hung so loosely that they 
 were a snare instead of an assistance to Mr. 
 Kerry's visitor. Pitfalls seemed to have 
 been wilfully made, just as Jack the Giant 
 Killer sawed the drawbridge half through, in 
 order that the giant might tumble into his 
 own moat. 
 
 Selwyn refrained, however, from expressing 
 any such idea, and followed silently into the 
 house. 
 
 jMr. Kerry's sitting-room was illumined by 
 a most glorious hre, piled lavishly up in 
 a huge grate, and imparting such a sense of 
 warmth to the Assistant-Surveyors coming 
 in from the damp evening air that they both 
 expanded into smiles at the same instant. 
 
 ' This is comfortable,' said Selwyn, going 
 over to the fire and spreading his hands 
 before it. 
 
 ' Sit down,' said his host, taking him by 
 the shoulders and placing him in a large 
 deep chair, which stood beside the hearth, 
 looking towards the window. 
 
 VOL. I. 6
 
 32 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 He himself took a smaller chair opposite 
 to Selwyn, and pulled the bell. 
 
 ' We'll have eggs and ham,' he said, gloat- 
 ing over the words. ' Are you hungry T 
 
 ' I don't think I am.' 
 
 * That's a pity,' said his host; 'but I've 
 got a devil of a twist, so we'll do pretty well 
 between us. Faith ! I believe they've gone 
 to sleep downstairs.' 
 
 He pulled the bell again as he spoke, and 
 as its loud jangle died away a voice was heard 
 proceeding from some distant upper region. 
 It cried: 'Alice, Alice!' then paused, and 
 then again, ' Alice, Alice, Alice !' 
 
 ' Listen till her,' said Mr. Kerry peevishly. 
 * Why can't she come down ?' 
 
 * Alice, Alice !' the voice screamed, and 
 with a pettish ejaculation Mr. Kerry threw 
 the door wide open. 
 
 * Is it me you want ?' he shouted. 
 
 * Lord bless us, is that you ringing, Mr. 
 Kerry ? Alice, Alice ! don't you hear me ?' 
 
 * In course she doesn't,' said Mr. Kerry 
 contemptuously ; ' wouldn't she hear my bell 
 sooner.' 
 
 * Well, go and ring it again, there's a good
 
 MR. KERRY AT HOME. 83 
 
 soul,' exclaimed the lady ; ' Alice gets deafer 
 every day.' 
 
 ' There's none so deaf as those that won't 
 hear,' observed Mr. Kerry, obeying his land- 
 lady's suggestion as he spoke. But before he 
 reached the bell there was a sound of some 
 one running up the kitchen stairs, and Alice 
 stood before him. 
 
 ' Did you ring, sir ?' she asked. 
 
 *Yes, till I've tired myself,' replied Mr. 
 Kerry. ' I want my tea ; and there's another 
 gentleman to tea with me wants his too, so 
 you'll get us a dish of ham and eggs. Quick, 
 mind you, or I'll go and get lodgings some 
 place else.' 
 
 Mr. Kerry returned to his friend, and 
 sat with him talking quietly for the next 
 twenty minutes about Somerset House, and 
 the men whom Selwyn had seen there. Then 
 the tea came, and Mr. Kerry devoted him- 
 self with such absorption to the ham and 
 eggs that he had not much time to speak. 
 
 Selwyn ate little, but watched his new ac- 
 quaintance, marvelling somewhat at the speed 
 with which he had fallen Into intimacy with 
 him. It seemed to him strange that he 
 
 6—2
 
 84 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 should be sitting at that moment in the lodg- 
 ings of a man whose existence he did not 
 suspect the day before. Not a man, more- 
 over, he reflected, who seemed to have much 
 that was outwardly attractive : in fact, an 
 odder personality it would have been hard to 
 find. And his room ! — as ordinary a room 
 as could be imagined, ' lodging-house ' and 
 * maid-of-all-work ' written large all over it ; 
 rickety chairs, dusty tables, and a cheap 
 engraving of the Trial of Strafford in West- 
 minster Hall. No books ; no music — stay, 
 there was a French horn lying on a table 
 in the window. Did Mr. Kerry play it, 
 Selwyn wondered. 
 
 Having devoured the last morsel of ham, 
 ]\Ir. Kerry turned his chair slowly round to- 
 wards the fire, and with a deep sigh of satis- 
 faction put his feet on the fender, and stared 
 into the blaze for some time without speaking ; 
 then he fixed his eyes on Selwyn, and asked : 
 
 ' So yeVe discontented already }' 
 
 * A little/ Selwyn admitted, surprised at his 
 new friend's memory. 
 
 ' Well, it's mighty foolish ' 
 
 Selwyn shrugged his shoulders.
 
 MR. KERRY AT HOME. 85 
 
 * I say it's foolish,' Mr. Kerry repeated ; 
 'any man who quarrels with his bread and 
 butter is a fool.' 
 
 * There's sense in that,' Selwyn answered ; 
 ' but I haven't quarrelled with my bread-and- 
 butter yet — and I don't mean to quarrel with 
 it. You must give me time : all this is new 
 to me ; and, to tell the truth, it is not quite 
 what I expected.' 
 
 Mr. Kerry glanced sharply at his guest, 
 but made no answer. Perhaps in that 
 moment some sense was borne in on his 
 mind that Selwyn was in a way different 
 from other Surveyors and Assistants in the 
 Inland Revenue. He did not pursue the 
 thought, however, or give any sign to show 
 that he had comprehended what his guest 
 felt. 
 
 ' It is a lonely thing to come to a strange 
 town, among people who are strangers to you,' 
 Selwyn continued ; * especially when you are 
 plainly shown that you are considered an 
 encumbrance.' 
 
 *What do you mean?' asked Mr. Kerry 
 in a beautiful brogue. ' Trosdale's very glad 
 vou're come.'
 
 86 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 * He hides his pleasure most successfully 
 then. I had half-an-hour's conversation with 
 him yesterday, when I came ; and he told 
 me plainly he considered it was an insult to 
 him to send me to this district/ 
 
 * Blessed St. Patrick !' ejaculated Mr. 
 Kerry, * who is this Trosdale ? Hold a 
 candle to him, somebody, and let's see his 
 features.' 
 
 ' To-day I have exchanged just six words 
 with him. He has told me straightforwardly 
 that he won't teach me my business, and that 
 I must pick it up as I can.' 
 
 * He's a proud, contrary divil !' observed 
 Mr. Kerry with conviction. ' Show me his 
 like ! You can't, I tell ye ! There isn't 
 one !' 
 
 ' So it is a cheerful prospect that lies before 
 me.' 
 
 ' It is that, for you'll beat the pair of them 
 — Trosdale, and that imp of hell, Thistle- 
 thwaite — yet ; I'll give you my note-books, 
 and you'll just come in to me as often as you 
 like. There isn't a man among the lot 
 knows his work like Dan Kerry. No — not 
 Dandison, or the Head Commissioner him-
 
 MR. KERRY AT HOME. 87 
 
 self. Here you are,' and Mr. Kerry rushed 
 into his bedroom and came back with a 
 large volume of Acts of Parliament. * Here 
 ye are, '' Anno Quinto et Sexto Victorise." 
 Learn that by heart, d'ye hear me ? An Act 
 for granting to her Majesty, Duties on Profits 
 arising from Property, Professions, Trades, 
 and Offices, until the sixth day of April, one 
 thousand eight hundred and forty-five." See 
 there! that'll have to be the bone of your 
 bone and flesh of your flesh. And here, too, 
 ** Anno Decimo Sexto," an' *' Decimo Sep- 
 timo Victoriae Reginae, cap. 34." You'll have 
 that with you, at bed and at board. Divil a 
 bit Trosdale knows about Decimo Sexto 
 and Septimo.' 
 
 * There's a good deal of reading in all 
 this,' said Selwyn dubiously, as he turned 
 over the pages of Mr. Kerry's huge 
 volume. 
 
 ' Ay, but sure's it's nearly all padding. 
 You might write it out in six pages. You 
 can boil it down as you go along.' 
 
 ' Well, I shall have to get it up, I suppose,' 
 said Selwyn, with a sigh. 
 
 * You will that ! And when you know it,
 
 88 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 I'll talk to you about it. Now, let's have a 
 smoke.' 
 
 And Mr. Kerry produced a jar of the 
 strongest York River, and filled a short 
 black pipe. 
 
 * That Trosdale's a queer fellow,' he said; 
 * he's mighty queer.' 
 
 ' Have you seen much of him ?' 
 
 ' No ; nor anyone. He keeps himself 
 shut up, and nobody goes to his house. 
 They say he's a miser, and that he's got 
 sacks of gold where he lives.' 
 
 ' That doesn't seem likely.' 
 
 *You can never tell,' rejoined Mr. Kerry. 
 ' There was an old fellow I knew in 
 Cushendall, and many's the time I've helped 
 him down to the seashore, and set him on a 
 rock, by reason that he was nearly blind. 
 And there he used to beg bits of dulse from 
 the girls to keep the life in him — not that 
 the life was much good when it was there. 
 And his house — you never saw such a place 
 — there wasn't as much roof on it as a cat 
 could sit on.' Having made which statement, 
 Mr. Kerry stopped and looked at his guest as 
 if expecting him to say something.
 
 MR. KERRY AT HOME. 89 
 
 'Well/ asked Selwyn, 'and had he any 
 money ?' 
 
 ' He had so !' rejoined Mr. Kerry Impres- 
 sively. ' When he died they found a canvas 
 bag full of pennies In his bed. And how 
 much do ye think they counted out ?' 
 
 Selwyn professed himself unable to 
 guess. 
 
 ' Ten pounds, one shilling, and fivepence/ 
 said Mr. Kerry solemnly; ' and all in penny- 
 pieces.' 
 
 * Did he leave It to you ?' 
 
 ' Not a farthing of It !' said Mr. Kerry 
 vehemently. Selwyn had evidently touched 
 a still open sore. ' Not a farthing ! The 
 old blackguard never made a will, and it 
 all went to the Crown.' 
 
 ' In the name of Fortune,' asked Selwyn, 
 * what could the Crown do with a canvas bag 
 full of pennies ?' 
 
 ' The Crown would like sacks full of gold 
 better,' replied his host ; * but whatever It did 
 with the old chap's savings, not one penny- 
 piece came back to old Ireland.' 
 
 Selwyn saw he was on dangerous ground, 
 and beo^an to seek about for some means of
 
 90 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 changing it. But the roving wits of his 
 host forestalled him. 
 
 ' That's a pretty pipe you're smoking/ he 
 observed. 
 
 It was an ordinary pipe enough, but a 
 well-marked piece of wood, and a favourite 
 companion of its owner. 
 
 * It is a pretty pipe,' said Selwyn, gazing 
 at it affectionately. Then with a sudden 
 impulse he handed it over to Mr. Kerry. 
 * Won't you keep it ?' he said. ' You have 
 been so kind to me to-night, I should like 
 to think you had it.' 
 
 Mr. Kerry's eyes glistened. 
 
 * Indeed, I'd like well to have it,' he said. 
 'And it's mighty friendly of you. You're 
 not like most of the proud English people. 
 You might be Irish yourself.' 
 
 ^ I believe I have some Irish blood in my 
 veins,' said Selwyn, laughing. 
 
 * You're not going !' exclaimed Mr. Kerry, 
 as his guest rose. 
 
 ' Yes, if you will allow me. I have hardly 
 begun my unpacking yet.' 
 
 *Well, you'll come and see me again 
 soon.'
 
 MR. KERRY AT HOME. 91 
 
 'Nay,' said Selwyn ; 'you owe me a visit 
 now.' 
 
 When his visitor had gone, Mr. Kerry seated 
 himself before the fire, and stretching his 
 long legs across the hearthrug, gave him- 
 self up to profound meditation. At intervals 
 he started slightly as if he meant to get up, 
 but relinquished his intention ; and sometimes 
 his hand clenched, and waved to and fro in 
 the air, as if its motion assisted the course of 
 his thoughts. Over w^hat ground Mr. Kerry s 
 mind was travelling, or how long a journey it 
 might have performed, is uncertain ; for his 
 ruminations were brought to an abrupt close 
 by the discovery that the fire had gone out. 
 He got up when he perceived this, and after 
 casting one or two hesitating glances at the 
 coal-box, he thrust a hand into each pocket 
 of his jacket, and puffing furiously at his pipe, 
 went out of his room and along a passage, 
 which led to the back part of the house. 
 
 A descent of three steps brought him to a 
 half-open door, whence a bright light and the 
 flicker of a fire issued cheerfully. Mr. Kerry 
 took the pipe from his mouth, and thrust his 
 head into the apartment.
 
 92 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 ' Sure, you're quite alone,' said he. 
 
 * Quite alone,' was the reply, in a high- 
 pitched woman's voice, * and so solitary ! 
 Won't you come in, Mr. Kerry ?' which invi- 
 tation Mr. Kerry immediately accepted. 
 
 * If your conscience is easy and your diges- 
 tion's good, you ought to be quite cheerful,' 
 he observed, sitting down as he spoke in a 
 rocking-chair, from which the lady cleared 
 away some work materials. 
 
 * Ah ! everyone has not your lightness of 
 heart,' rejoined she ; ^ or your cheerful 
 spirits, Mr. Kerry.' 
 
 * More's the pity/ replied that gentleman, 
 rocking himself gently to and fro. 
 
 The lady sighed. 
 
 Mr. Kerry appeared to find the motion of 
 his chair soothing, for his eyes gradually 
 closed, and but for an occasional puff of 
 smoke which issued from his lips it would 
 have seemed that he was asleep. The lady 
 sewed on steadily, the noise of her needle 
 being almost the only sound audible. At 
 last Mr. Kerry's eyes opened. 
 
 * Miss Dormer/ said he ; ' that's a quiet, 
 steady young man.'
 
 MR. KERRY AT HOME. 93 
 
 * Dear me,' she answered, ^ who are you 
 speaking of ?' 
 
 ' Why, that young man who came to tea 
 with me this evening.' 
 
 * I did not see him ; but you always have 
 such nice friends !' 
 
 Mr. Kerry digested this remark for some 
 time in silence ; then he said : 
 
 * Captain Bottles is gone away, isn't he ?' 
 
 * Yes, he's gone at last, poor dear man. 
 His brother, the minister, came and took 
 him off in a cab, and they will send for his 
 boxes to-morrow. I'm afraid we'll miss him 
 sadly, Mr. Kerry.' 
 
 'We'll know he isn't here, if that's what 
 you mean,' Mr. Kerry answered. 'Fm not 
 sorry he's gone. Was he drunk when he 
 went ?' 
 
 * That's what the minister asked ; but I 
 don't know. Perhaps he wasn't quite sober : 
 but then sailors are not like other men.* 
 
 *'Deed, and they're not,' Mr. Kerry as- 
 sented. '■ The brother, what's he minister of, 
 or is he a minister at all }' 
 
 ' I don't know. He wore a white tie. 
 
 ' That's nothing to go by.'
 
 94 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 ' Well, perhaps he wasn't a minister. But 
 the poor Captain's gone, anyway.* 
 
 * Then the room is empty ?' 
 
 * Yes, for the first time these two years.' 
 
 * You seem pleased ?' 
 
 *Well, not exactly pleased,' replied Miss 
 Dormer apologetically, * because the Captain 
 made the house cheerful. But there's the 
 extra space now he's gone, and the house is 
 none too big.' 
 
 * Holy St. Bridget !' exclaimed Mr. Kerry. 
 ' What'll ye do with it all ? There's this 
 room and the kitchens, and your own room, 
 and the litde room on the stairs, and Captain 
 Bottles' two rooms, to say nothing of my 
 rooms and the attics. Anybody might lose 
 themselves wanderin' through the house. 
 You'd better let them.' 
 
 'After all, that only makes seven rooms 
 besides the kitchens and attics ; and then, 
 you know, one might require more space any 
 day, and not be able to turn out a tenant just 
 because one wanted his rooms.* 
 
 ' I don't know why. You're not going to 
 be married, are you ?' 
 
 This suggestion Mr. Kerry threw out as a
 
 MR. KERR Y AT HOME. 95 
 
 kind of rediictio ad absttrdum ; but Miss 
 Dormer took it seriously. She bridled and 
 simpered, as she answered : 
 
 * Not just now, perhaps ; but I might.' 
 
 ' So might the man in the moon, or so 
 might I.' 
 
 * So you might/ rejoined the lady, and if 
 the fire had not flickered so brightly as to 
 make the point doubtful, it would have 
 seemed that Miss Dormer blushed. Mr. 
 Kerry glanced at her, and became suddenly 
 thoughtful. 
 
 * Well, it's your own, to do as you like 
 with,' he observed ; * but, if you'll accept my 
 advice, you'll get that young man to take 
 Bottles' rooms.' 
 
 With these words, Mr. Kerry knocked the 
 ashes out of his pipe into the fender, and 
 handed it to Miss Dormer, who, apparently 
 well accustomed to this proceeding, took it 
 from him, and filled it from a canister which 
 she reached down from the chimney-piece. 
 She gave it back to Mr. Kerry together with 
 a lighted match, and sat meditatively 
 pressing the point of her needle on her lower 
 
 lip.
 
 96 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 ' You see,' she observed, ' I am not very 
 anxious to let the rooms again.' 
 
 ' So it seems. But you won't get such a 
 chance another time.' 
 
 ' Do you really think he would be a quiet 
 lodger ? Would he be reeling home tipsy, 
 now ?' 
 
 * Pooh !' said Mr. Kerry contemptuously ; 
 * his head isn't strong enough.' 
 
 ' And would he come ? You don't know 
 that yet ?' 
 
 ' He'd come,' said Mr. Kerry, with poetic 
 fervour, ^ like a linnet to its nest.' 
 
 At this pretty speech, out of which, with 
 very little trouble, she could extract a grati- 
 fying compliment to herself, Miss Dormer 
 simpered. What answer she might have 
 made, or whether she would have hauled 
 down her colours and consented to receive 
 Selwyn, can never now be known ; for at 
 that instant there came a furious ring at the 
 bell, and a thumping at the front door, as if 
 mad bulls were charging it. 
 
 ' My gracious !' exclaimed Miss Dormer, 
 starting violently — she was of a nervous dis- 
 position. While Alice, the servant, ran up
 
 MR. KERRY AT HOME. 97 
 
 the kitchen stairs, Miss Dormer stole into the 
 hall, so as to see who entered. But the door 
 was no sooner opened, than she fell back 
 with a sort of shriek, clasping her hands 
 together ; at the same time a heavy, lurching 
 footstep sounded in the passage, and a burly 
 sailor appeared in the house, heralded by a 
 gust of some strong spirituous smell. 
 
 He was in a pitiable plight. He had evi- 
 dently taken part in a scuffle, for his coat 
 vvas rent in twain, and his hat battered in. 
 His clothing generally was covered with 
 mud ; but he appeared sublimely unconscious 
 of these defects, as well as of the necessity 
 for announcing himself in any way. With 
 all the air of a man who was quite at home, 
 he threw out one arm, laid the other across 
 his chest, and sang in a feeble voice, which 
 was in odd contrast to the strength of his 
 appearance : 
 
 " No aching head, no trembling fear, 
 Follows after gingerbeer." 
 
 The gallant captain's song was full of 
 shakes and quavers ; but when he reached 
 the end of the second line his voice failed 
 
 VOL. I. 7
 
 98 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 him. He hung his head, and with a deeply- 
 penitent appearance asked : 
 
 ^ Mistress Dormer, will ye gie me ma bed- 
 room candle ?' 
 
 All this time Mr. Kerry had continued im- 
 movably smoking, though watching with a 
 keen eye everything that passed. At this 
 point he deemed it prudent to interpose, 
 
 ' How did he come here ?' he inquired of 
 Miss Dormer, pointing with the stem of his 
 pipe at the inebriated captain. 
 
 * I'm sure I don't know,' replied the lady 
 helplessly, * nor what to do with him now he 
 is here.' 
 
 * Put him out,' suggested Mr. Kerry, 
 springing up actively, and seizing the Cap- 
 tain's arm. But that worthy resisted, grasp- 
 ing at everything within his reach, till the 
 net result of the struggle was that the Cap- 
 tain, not being very steady on his legs, fell 
 forward upon the floor. Miss Dormer 
 screamed : 
 
 ' Oh, Mr. Kerry, you've killed him !' she 
 sobbed. * What shall I do — what shall I do ?' 
 
 * Phooh ! he's no more dead than I am. 
 Here, get up, will you }'
 
 MR. KERRY AT HOME. 99 
 
 Unfortunately this was the very thing 
 which Captain Bottles appeared incapable of 
 doing. And after trying once or twice to 
 reinstate him on his legs, Mr. Kerry de- 
 sisted from the attempt. Miss Dormer con- 
 tinued to sob loudly, and had no advice to 
 offer in this crisis ; so Mr. Kerry, mastering 
 the situation with a rapid mental survey, 
 decided : 
 
 ' Sure, we'll have to put him to bed.' 
 
 With that he called Alice to his help ; and 
 the two together managed to haul the sailor 
 upstairs, and lay him on the bed, in that room 
 which he was fondly thought to have vacated 
 in favour of better people. 
 
 When Mr. Kerry came downstairs he 
 found Miss Dormer less tearful, but still 
 greatly subdued. 
 
 ' I think I will go to bed,' she remarked. 
 ' I am not so young as I was, and I can't 
 stand shocks.' 
 
 'Sure, they make you younger.' With 
 which gallant remark Mr. Kerry bade Miss 
 Dormer good-night, and sought his own 
 couch, profoundly thoughtful. 
 
 7—2
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 CAUGHT IN THE ACT, 
 
 ELWYN did not follow out the 
 scheme of revenge on the two 
 clerks which Mr. Kerry had sug- 
 gested, but went down to his office about 
 nine on the following morning. Early as it 
 was, he found Holt already there. 
 
 * Have you got the keys, Mr. Serle ?' he 
 asked anxiously, as soon as Selwyn entered. 
 
 Selwyn produced them, saying as he did 
 so : 
 
 ' I do not think you ought to have left me 
 as you did yesterday.' 
 
 Holt looked at him mutinously ; but find- 
 ing his glance steadily returned, he answered 
 with a slight hesitation that he had met a 
 friend, who kept him on important business.
 
 CAUGHT IN THE ACT 
 
 ' It would be better if you could meet your 
 friends at more convenient hours,' returned 
 Selwyn gravely, and went to his desk. 
 
 The Surveyor arrived a few minutes later. 
 He was in better spirits, and greeted his 
 Assistant cheerfully. 
 
 ' Well, Mr. Serle,' he said, ' how did you 
 get on yesterday ?' 
 
 ' I filled up a good many of the forms,' 
 Selwyn answered ; ' but I have not at all a 
 clear idea what I am doing.' 
 
 ' Ah ! You'll pick that up,' the Surveyor 
 answered. ' Nothing like doing a thing if 
 you really want to understand it. We should 
 never get through our work if we stopped 
 to think " about the how and the why." ' 
 
 Selwyn made no rejoinder to this enig- 
 matical observation. 
 
 * Have you been into any of the other 
 offices ?' the Surveyor asked. 
 
 * Kerry took me in to see Mr. Cramsey.' 
 ' Well, what do you think of him ?' 
 
 * Perhaps that is not so important as what 
 he thinks of me ; and I may as well tell you 
 that my first meeting with him was rather 
 unfortunate.'
 
 102 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 And he explained to the Surveyor how he 
 had found Mr. Cramsey washing his gar- 
 ments. 
 
 ' He will never forgive you,' Mr. Trosdale 
 said, showing in this case at least his opinion 
 was in harmony with Mr. Kerry. * Cramsey 
 is the most vindictive man I know. I'm glad 
 you saw him doing that. If it was worth 
 while I could tell you lots of things about 
 him. But you had better be careful. Cram- 
 sey would think nothing of doing you an 
 injury with Dandison. He is not safe ; he is 
 dangerous.' 
 
 Then he burst into a pleased laugh. 
 
 ' It was a funny thing, though,' he said. ' I 
 like what you told him about the laundry. 
 Here, Mr. Thistlethwaite,' for that gentle- 
 man had just entered, ' do you hear this ? 
 Mr. Serle found Cramsey at his wash-tub ! 
 A rare joke. I must go and tell Rowcroft 
 the story.' 
 
 * I wouldn't, sir, if I were you,' said the 
 senior clerk. ' Davy is a dunderheaded fool, 
 and an almighty ass about his work, but, 
 sooner or later, he manages to get his knife 
 into anybody who quarrels with him. I'll
 
 CA UGHT IN THE A CT. 103 
 
 warrant Mr. Serle '11 be sorry he spoke, and 
 with reason too, before he is six months 
 older.' 
 
 ' You hear that ?' said Mr. Trosdale, 
 turning to his Assistant ; * that's just what I 
 said, you know.' 
 
 ' I do not think you put it quite so strongly,' 
 answered Selwyn ; ' but I must take my 
 chance. I shall be ready to answer any 
 charges he likes to make against me.' 
 
 The Surveyor shook his head, and Thistle- 
 thwaite smiled contemptuously. 
 
 ' Mr. Serle does not know much about the 
 way things are managed in a tax-office,' he 
 observed. 
 
 After saying this he was going into the 
 outer office, but turned back to ask : 
 
 * By the way, sir, how late do you expect 
 Mr. Serle to stay here ?' 
 
 Selwyn turned sharply round at this 
 question. 
 
 ' What do you mean ?' the Surveyor in- 
 quired. ' I suppose he will stay till about 
 the usual time. You know, Mr. Serle, we 
 haven't any fixed hours. I must ask you to 
 stay as long as there is work for you to do.'
 
 I04 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 * Perhaps you will ask Mr. Thistlethwaite 
 to put his meaning a little more clearly,' said 
 Selwyn ; ' it was after six o'clock when I 
 went away last night.' 
 
 The Surveyor looked at Thistlethwaite. 
 
 ' What I mean is this,' that gentleman re- 
 plied, with a face of brass. ' I went out 
 late in the afternoon for a little while 
 with Holt, and I was kept on important 
 business longer than I expected. Of 
 course, I thought as Mr. Serle was here 
 it didn't matter ; but when I came back 
 he was gone, and everything locked up, 
 so that I could not do the work you meant 
 me to finish.' 
 
 The audacity of this way of putting the 
 case astounded Selwyn, and the Surveyor 
 said fretfully : 
 
 * I wish you could manage not to go out in 
 this way ; but of course Mr. Serle ought to 
 have waited. I must ask you to remember 
 that in future, please, Mr. Serle.' 
 
 Then, as if he wished to get rid of the sub- 
 ject, he handed a mass of papers to his clerk. 
 
 'Just go in and see if you can settle this 
 with Mr. Gough,' he said.
 
 CA UGHT IN THE ACT. 105 
 
 Thistlethwaite went off with a triumphant 
 smile on his face. 
 
 ' So,' reflected Selwyn, ' he means to make 
 mischief between me and my chief. I shan't 
 stand that. Wait a bit, Mr. Thisdethwaite.' 
 
 He settled to his work without taking 
 any notice of the matter, and the day 
 passed quietly. Thistlethwaite seemed to 
 feel that, having asserted his position and 
 scored a victory, he could afford to be 
 gracious towards his adversary ; and accord- 
 ingly, when he came back, he was wondrous 
 civil, coming many times to explain things to 
 him, and refraining altogether from venomous 
 remarks. It was no part of Selwyn's purpose 
 to keep up bitter feelings, and he met Thistle- 
 thwaite half-way. 
 
 Towards the close of the afternoon Mr. 
 Trosdale, who had been sitting for the last 
 hour with his hands in his pockets, and his 
 eyes fixed on the ceiling, observed to his 
 Assistant, without turning round : 
 
 ' If you can spare a few minutes now, Mr. 
 Serle, we might as well go in and see Row- 
 croft and Gough.' 
 
 If he could spare a few minutes ! Why,
 
 io6 THE GOVERNMENT OEEICIAL. 
 
 every nerve in Selwyn's body was quivering 
 with eagerness for some relief from the 
 monotonous work on which he was employed. 
 He threw down his pen with a sigh of relief, 
 and followed the Surveyor into the passage. 
 
 ' I suppose,' observed Mr. Trosdale, point- 
 ing to the door of Mr. Cramsey's habitation, 
 * it's no use going in there, is it ?' 
 
 * Not much, I think,' Selvvyn answered ; 
 ' one rebuff from that quarter is enough for 
 the present.' 
 
 ' It is rather an unlucky beginning for you. 
 I do really believe Cramsey pulls the wires 
 more than anyone in this building suspects. 
 Halloa, Rowcroft ! are you going out ?' 
 
 This last remark was addressed to a dapper 
 little man, with keen, smooth-shaven face, 
 thin features, and a quaint, bright smile in 
 speaking, who met Mr. Trosdale and his 
 Assistant at the door of his own office. 
 
 * I was going out,' he answered ; ' indeed, 
 I was going home. My wife .... in fact 
 . . . .' and here he whispered into Mr. 
 Trosdale's ear with an apprehensive glance 
 at Selwyn, as if he feared the young man 
 might overhear him.
 
 CA UGHT IN THE A C7. 1 07 
 
 ' God bless my soul !' exclaimed Mr. 
 Trosdale in a tone of profound pity, not 
 unmingled with contempt, such as one might 
 use towards a man who through sheer im- 
 becility has fallen into some scrape. * Well, 
 well, .... we won't keep you. I was 
 coming in to introduce Mr. Serle.' 
 
 Hearing this, Mr. Rowcroft wrung 
 Selwyn's hand, and then dropped it ner- 
 vously. 
 
 ' I am very glad to see you, Mr. Serle,' 
 he said, and he spoke with a curious intona- 
 tion, running one word into another. * I 
 must have a chat with you some other day. 
 Just now, don't you know .... Mr. Tros- 
 dale .... yes, he'll tell you, good-bye.' 
 
 And the little man darted off down the 
 passage, and was through the swing doors at 
 the head of the staircase in a twink- 
 ling. 
 
 ' I'm afraid Mr. Rowcroft is anxious about 
 something,' Selwyn observed. 
 
 ' It's just his way,' Mr. Trosdale replied, 
 ' he's always excited about something. He's 
 just had his tenth child. I haven't any 
 patience with the man. But there, he
 
 io8 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 means very well ! And anyway, he's not 
 malicious like Cramsey/ 
 
 With that he led the way into Mr. 
 Gough's office, whence there issued the 
 sound of voices in high dispute, of which one 
 was plainly Mr. Kerry's. 
 
 ' I tell you you're quite wrong about it/ 
 said a deep, rough voice ; ^ there's no ex- 
 emption in such a case.' 
 
 ' Wrong, am I !' shrieked Mr. Kerry at 
 the top of his voice. ' Am I wrong ? Faith 
 I'll let you know ! You haven't read the 
 Act.' 
 
 ' Stuff !' said the other, ' show me. There's 
 a copy of the Acts.' 
 
 * Phooh !' answered Mr. Kerry, spluttering 
 with wrath, ' isn't it in me head ? Ouinto et 
 Sexto Victorise five-and-thirtieth chapter and 
 section eighty-three. " That whenever by 
 any flood or tempest," mark that — what's a 
 tempest but such a swilling as the country's 
 had these months past ? — " loss shall be sus- 
 tained on the growing crops," — all of them, 
 look you, and what's apples but a growing 
 crop ? — *' or on the stock or lands demised to a 
 tenant at a reserved rent without fine or other
 
 CA UGHT IN THE ACT. 109 
 
 sum paid, given or contracted for in lieu of a 
 reserved rent or any part thereof, or the said 
 lands or any part thereof shall by such flood 
 or tempest be rendered incapable of cultiva- 
 tion for any year, and it shall be proved on 
 oath to the satisfaction of the Commissioners 
 for General Purposes acting for the division 
 where the said lands are situate that the 
 owner of the said lands hath, in consideration 
 of such loss, abated or agreed to abate . . . .' 
 * Merciful Providence !' exclaimed the 
 other man, ' can't you give me the reference, 
 instead of deafening me in this way ?' 
 
 ' I have given it you,' answered Mr. Kerry 
 sulkily. ' What can you have better than 
 the very words themselves ?' 
 
 ' Yes, yes, yes ; but not all at once ! You 
 stun me with your gabble. Come in, come 
 in, Trosdale ; glad to see you. Here's Kerry 
 fit to throttle me, because I hinted gently that 
 he was wrong.' 
 
 ' I heard you,' said Mr. Trosdale ; ' but 
 you didn't do it gently. You might have 
 meant to be mild, but you certainly were 
 not.' 
 
 ' Hear him !' said Mr. Kerry ; ' I'm obliged
 
 no THE GO VERXMEXT OFFICIAL. 
 
 to you, ^Ir. Trosdale. Faith, it's a sweet 
 temper I possess if I'm well treated.* Here 
 he stopped and sniffed the air suspiciously. 
 
 * Somebody's cooking again !' he exclaimed. 
 ' I don t believe there's ten minutes in the 
 whole day without some poisonous smell 
 coming wandering down the passage. WTiy 
 don't you stop it, Mr. Gough ? It's not 
 decent or respectful to the public' 
 
 * I wish you'd show me how to stop it. 
 Its upstairs, I suppose. But I think youVe 
 wrong, Kerry, I don't smell anything.' 
 
 * Nor do I,' said Mr. Trosdale, 
 
 * It's poor noses you've got then, anyway,' 
 rejoined the Irishman, and at that moment 
 an unmistakable gush of some greasy odour 
 was wafted into the office ; ' perhaps you don't 
 smell anything now, either of you } I wonder 
 what they'd think of you in Ireland.' 
 
 ' Good heavens !' exclaimed Mr. Gough, 
 starting up angrily from his chair, * this is 
 unbearable. Is there any reason, Trosdale, 
 why I should be poisoned in my own office 
 all day long ?' 
 
 ' I don't know of any,' replied his friend ; 
 
 * why do you not trace it out ?'
 
 CA UGHT IN THE A CT. 
 
 * So I will. We'll all trace it out together. 
 Come along-, Kerry, come along .... eh ! 
 Who .... oh ! I'm very glad to make your 
 acquaintance, Mr. Serle, and I'll be eternally 
 your friend if you'll help me to stop this 
 nuisance.' 
 
 * I will do my best,' said Selwyn, laughing, 
 and with that the whole party emerged into 
 the passage. 
 
 * It's this road it's coming,' said Air. Kerry, 
 walking in advance of the rest, * and faith ! I 
 think it blows from the little room the In- 
 spector uses when he's here !' 
 
 ' How can that be ?' asked Mr. Gough ; ' it 
 is always kept locked.' 
 
 * Perhaps they shut poor old Fisher in the 
 last time he came down,' suggested Mr. 
 Trosdale, 'and his body's mouldering away 
 there all this time.' 
 
 * I liked Fisher well enough,' said Mr. 
 Kerry, hesitating, 'but I'd be sorry to see 
 him if he's dead.' 
 
 * Fiddlepin's end !' exclaimed Mr. Gough ; 
 ' can't you tell bacon when you smell it ? 
 Why, I heard it frizzle only a moment ago. 
 Here open this door, will you ! Open it, I
 
 1 1 2 THE G O VERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 say directly, if you don't want me to kick the 
 panels in.' And he began a violent assault 
 on the door, as if he really meant to fulfil his 
 threat. There was a slight scuffling noise in 
 the room, but no notice was taken of the 
 summons. 
 
 * I'm positive I heard somebody inside,' 
 said Mr. Gough, looking round at his com- 
 panions ; ' didn't you, Trosdale ?' 
 
 ' I heard something,' replied that gentle- 
 man ; ' but I think it was only Kerry doing 
 a double-shuffle on the mat.' 
 
 * May I die if I've winked an eyelash since 
 Mr. Gough began to knock,' was Mr. Kerry's 
 rejoinder, and as he spoke he knelt down and 
 applied his eye to the keyhole. * There's 
 some one inside, as sure as we are all wicked 
 sinners,' he said. ^ I see a thing like a girl's 
 dress.' 
 
 * A girl's dress ? Fie, Kerry, there are no 
 such doings in these offices,' said Mr. Gough; 
 ' you must have a bad heart, or you wouldn't 
 think of those things. Let me come and look. 
 Faugh ! what a stench there is.' 
 
 Just as everybody was trying to look 
 through the keyhole of the door at the same
 
 CA UGHT IN THE ACT. 113 
 
 moment, they were startled by a voice at their 
 elbows which said : 
 
 ' I think I can save you a little trouble, 
 gentlemen, if you will let me help you. I 
 have a key which fits this lock.' 
 
 It was Mr. Cramsey, who had stolen on 
 them unperceived. It was an unpleasant sur- 
 prise to all present. Mr. Trosdale turned aside 
 and swore beneath his breath, while Mr. Kerry 
 scrambled up from his knees, and rubbing his 
 head, inquired angrily of his chief : 
 
 ' What for did you jam my head against 
 the door ?' 
 
 Mr. Cramsey deigned no answer, but pro- 
 ducing a huge bunch of keys, carefully 
 selected one, unlocked the door and threw it 
 open. All the men crowded at once into the 
 room. 
 
 There was a small fire in the grate, and 
 beside it stood the clerk Holt, looking the 
 very picture of misery. 
 
 ' Why, it's nobody but that o^nadhaun Holt!' 
 exclaimed Mr. Kerry in a tone of deep dis- 
 appointment. ' Where's the girl gone to ; 
 can't you answer, and not be standing staring 
 there like a stuck pig ?' 
 
 VOL. I. 8
 
 114 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 ' I don't know what you're talking about/ 
 said the unfortunate Holt. ' Indeed, Mr. 
 Trosdale, I'd have opened the door at once, 
 if I'd known you were there, or Mr. Gough 
 either. I beg your pardon, I'm sure. I had 
 only come in to settle up these old assess- 
 ments, and I thought it was Thistlethwaite 
 kicking to vex me.' 
 
 ' Gammon !' said Mr. Gough rudely ; ' as- 
 sessments don't make a smell like this. Just 
 open that window, Kerry, or we shall all be 
 poisoned. You've been cooking something. 
 Trosdale, make him say what he has been 
 cooking.' 
 
 * As sure as I'm alive!' cried Holt, 'I 
 haven't touched food since breakfast. You 
 can see for yourselves there's nothing here.' 
 
 ' There's something mighty like grease on 
 the fender,' observed Mr. Kerry. 
 
 ' I know,' replied Holt nervously ; ' that's 
 tallow, Mr. Dandison spilt it last time he was 
 here.' 
 
 ' It's very fresh,' said Mr. Gough, who had 
 been looking at it. ' Don't you think so, 
 Cramsey ?' 
 
 Mr. Cramsey, who had hitherto remained
 
 CA UGHT IN THE ACT, m 
 
 in the doorway looking on, with his fat lips 
 pursed up, and his little black eyes shining 
 like those of a snake, waddled over to the 
 fender, touched the grease spots with his 
 finger, which he then applied to his tongue. 
 
 * It's bacon fat,' he said. ' Tell him to 
 open that cupboard, Mr. Gough.' 
 
 'That cupboard,' said Holt, 'why, it hasn't 
 been touched since Mr. Dandison was here. 
 It's always locked. It's got his papers in it. 
 He'd be very angry if it was touched.' 
 
 ' We can lock it up again,' said Mr. Gough. 
 ' Lend me your bunch of keys, Cramsey.' 
 
 But this Mr. Cramsey, with a fat leer, de- 
 clined to do, preferring to keep them in his 
 own possession. 
 
 After some difficulty the cupboard was 
 opened, and with a sort of whiffle of triumph 
 Mr. Cramsey drew forth a frying-pan, and 
 brandished it in the air. 
 
 ' I know,' said Holt, clinging desperately 
 to hope ; ' it's the one Mr. Dandison uses 
 when he comes down.' 
 
 The idea of Mr. Dandison, with his snowy 
 linen and his carefully tended hands, finger- 
 ing a filthy frying-pan which reeked with 
 
 8—2
 
 II 6 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 grease, was too much for the gravity of the 
 whole party. Mr. Kerry screamed and 
 shouted with laughter, Mr. Gough made a 
 sort of gurgling sound in the depths of his 
 beard, Mr. Cramsey chuckled as loudly as 
 he was able, Mr. Trosdale alone remained 
 grave and gloomy. 
 
 'Why, you wretched liar,' he said, ad- 
 vancing a step towards his clerk, ' the pan's 
 warm. It's been on the fire within ten 
 minutes. Now, look here, I have had more 
 trouble than enough with you. I've toiled 
 and slaved to teach you your business, but 
 you know no more now than w^hen you 
 came. Then we catch you in the act of 
 cooking your filthy messes in a Government 
 office, and now you try to choke me by 
 thrusting falsehoods down my throat. I will 
 have no more of it. You must go on 
 Saturday. No, I won't hear anything you 
 have to say, I'm sick of you. I'm going 
 to have a snack, Gough ; will you come T 
 
 So saying, and remarking to Selwyn that 
 he did not intend to return, the sorely-tried 
 Surveyor departed, accompanied by Mr. 
 Gough, and followed by Mr. Cramsey.
 
 CAUGHT IN THE ACT. 117 
 
 Mr. Kerry and Selwyn remained, while 
 Holt stood looking blankly at them. 
 
 'What did I say yesterday?' asked Mr. 
 Kerry gravely. * Didn't I tell you Tros- 
 dale had had about enough of you ?' 
 
 ' Ah ! go on,' said Holt, turning to pick up 
 an assessment ; ' it's not the first time he 
 has given me the sack, and it'll not be the 
 last. Trosdale knows I'm too much use to 
 him.' 
 
 * You'll not beat that this while,' said Mr. 
 Kerry, with an air of conviction. ' Come 
 along, Selwyn ; I've got a case I want to 
 show^ you.' 
 
 And then, as they went down the passage, 
 the sapient Irishman observed : 
 
 ' I'm thinkin' that if Victoria Regina knew 
 half of what passes here, it would put the 
 surprise on her.'
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A FRIENDLY CALL. 
 
 ,T the time Selwyn received his 
 appointment there were, and for 
 aught the present writer knows, 
 may be still, in Liverpool, four Surveyors of 
 Taxes — four gentlemen who bore on their 
 eight shoulders the whole responsibility of 
 the Assessment of Income Tax for that great 
 town. 
 
 The wisdom of the Commons of England 
 in Parliament assembled had, indeed, decreed 
 that such responsibility should rest with 
 a number of local Commissioners, chosen 
 from amongst the richer inhabitants ; but, 
 inasmuch as those gentleman performed no 
 functions which they could avoid, and as the 
 Board of Inland Revenue made the Surveyors
 
 A FRIEND L Y CALL. 1 1 9 
 
 feel the weight of their displeasure when 
 anything went wrong, it is not unfair to say that 
 the burden of the taxing of the second most 
 important port in Great Britain was shared 
 amongst First, Second, Third, and Fourth 
 Liverpool. 
 
 The Surveyors had an Assistant apiece, 
 and two clerks ; thus the principal resident 
 staff consisted of sixteen souls, who were 
 expected each working-day to assemble in 
 offices probably the most inconvenient that 
 the perverted ingenuity of man ever de- 
 vised. 
 
 Possibly Mr. Trosdale was well within 
 the truth when he said the heaviest district 
 out of the four into which Liverpool is 
 divided had been asslo^ned to him — but what 
 then ? 
 
 ' If he gave his mind to it, the work would 
 be child's play,' remarked Mr. Kerry. ' I 
 know he is for ever in a muddle, and a man 
 is like to be always in a muddle who cares 
 for nothing and thinks of nothing except his 
 pay. Who but he would keep chaps like 
 Thistlethwaite and Holt ? Why, even old 
 Davy would be ashamed of them. Davy is
 
 1 20 THE GO VERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 not much to look at, but he won't have people 
 about him that shirk their work — and quite 
 right too. What is the use of keeping a dog 
 and barking yourself ?' 
 
 ' I never was more surprised than when I 
 found you were Cramsey's Assistant,' said 
 Selwyn, though he had before expressed 
 astonishment on this point. 
 
 'And why wouldn't I be his assistant, or 
 any man's ?' asked Mr. Kerry, a little huffed; 
 * and if I had not wanted to be, how was I to 
 help myself? I did not choose him out of 
 thousands — I was sent down to him from 
 Somerset House, the same as you were sent 
 to Trosdale. I shall never forget him when 
 I walked in with my letter. " I don't think 
 much of the look of you," he said. '' Never 
 trouble your head about my looks, you'll find 
 me a rare one to go," I answered. "• We'll 
 see," he grunted — and he has seen. There's 
 not an office where the work is got through 
 as it is in ours — that I say, though perhaps 
 I ought not to say it.' 
 
 * I suppose he can get through a lot of 
 work himself when he chooses,' hazarded 
 Selwyn.
 
 A FRIENDLY CALL. 121 
 
 * It's not often he does choose,' was the 
 reply. ^ I'm the man takes the Liverpool 
 2 train right through, while my governor 
 sits at ease and mends his pencils.' 
 
 * Mends what ?' asked Selwyn, who thought 
 he could not have heard aright. 
 
 ' His pencils. Come in any morning about 
 fifteen minutes after ten — old Davy keeps his 
 time, I'll say that much in his favour — and 
 you'll see him at work.' 
 
 ' Thank you. I have already seen him 
 engaged in another branch of labour, and I 
 know my presence then afforded him no 
 gratification whatever.' 
 
 ' Faith, you're right. I forgot that for the 
 minute ; you had best give him as wide a 
 berth as you can. But we were talking about 
 the pencils. This is what he does regularly : 
 he comes in puffing and blowing, takes off his 
 hat, lays past his gloves, that look as if they 
 had been up the chimney for a month, and 
 that he never can get on, because his hands 
 are always too hot ; unlocks his drawer, and 
 takes out a hone — on my conscience a hone, no 
 less. Then he sharpens his knife. After that's 
 done he ranges his pencils before him and
 
 122 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 sets to work. He has two sizes of red, and he 
 puts a point as fine as a needle on each of them, 
 and the same with the blue, the green, the 
 yellow, and the black, breathing all the time 
 like a broken-winded horse. That is all he 
 does in the office most days, except to read 
 the letters and ask me a question, maybe. 
 At twelve he goes out for his lunch, and 
 stops away for two hours. When he comes 
 back he spells the paper through, advertise- 
 ments and all ; and, indeed, there's some- 
 times a heap of diversion to be got out of the 
 advertisements. Then he often takes a spell 
 in what you call his laundry, which is an office 
 nobody else uses nowadays, and that is how 
 he gets through his time. But, mind you, 
 he sees that his people do their work. If he 
 found Windrake or Battey at the Shippers, it 
 would be short notice they would get.' 
 
 'Liverpool i. seems a capable sort of 
 gentleman.' 
 
 ^ What, Gough ! — 'deed, and he's not. He 
 knows as much about taxes as a goose knows 
 of its godmother ; and what is worse, he 
 won't give in to those that do know. I have 
 to put the Acts down his throat as if they
 
 A FRIENDLY CALL. 
 
 were pills ; he won't take them any other 
 way ; and, indeed, he often won't take them 
 at all. He thinks there is no man in the office 
 wiser than himself.' 
 
 * But why does he not learn the Acts ?' 
 asked Selwyn, amazed at the scroll of ig-nor- 
 ance Mr. Kerry unrolled before his eyes. 
 
 * Because he is too busy studying the 
 odds. There is not a race he has not some- 
 thing on, big or little ; and if ever you hear 
 he has to go to an appeal case that'll take 
 him. the whole day, just you turn to the 
 Sporting News, and see whether it is not 
 Aintree, or Chester, or Doncaster, or New- 
 market, or some other devilment. It's in his 
 blood — he can't help it. His grandfather 
 went through fifty thousand pounds and then 
 shot himself, and Gough is just such another. 
 I have nothing to say against him though. 
 I'd like well enouQ^h to be Assistant in Liver- 
 pool I.' 
 
 ' And Mr. Rowcroft, what about him ?' 
 asks Selwyn. ' I have scarcely seen his face 
 properly yet.' 
 
 ' Faith, then you have had no loss. We 
 call him Baby, because he's so like one.
 
 124 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 What Dandison should do is get him a head 
 nurse's place — he'd like that. He married a 
 little woman with a lot of money, and he 
 ought to retire and make room for somebody 
 who really needs the salary. Trust him 
 though, he'll never go till he can take a 
 thumping pension with him. Ah ! I only 
 wish I was leading man in Somerset House 
 for a while. It wouldn't be long before I did 
 away with pensions.' 
 
 * With pensions !' repeated Selwyn, in amaze- 
 ment ; * then you would do away with the 
 greatest inducement to enter the service.' 
 
 ' That is just the evil. A man makes a 
 good fight to get his appointment, and then 
 he knows he may sit down and rest himself 
 for life. If he is the worst screw^ that ever 
 came out of a knacker's yard, there he is for 
 Government to make what they can out of. 
 There is no credit in being a good horse 
 here, not a bit ; you may just as well shirk 
 your fences and stumble over your flat leaps, 
 you may, for all the thanks you get. If I 
 had my due, I would be near the top of the 
 tree by this time ; but one thing is certain, 
 they can't keep me out of my Surveyorship
 
 A FRIEND L V CALL. 1 2 5 
 
 much longer, and then I'll show some of 
 them how things ought to be done.' 
 
 ' Shall you be a very hard taskmaster, 
 Kerry ?' asked Selwyn, with a smile. 
 
 ' I will that,' answered Mr. Kerry, with a 
 determination there was no mistaking. ' You 
 may take your davy I'll stand no nonsense ; 
 I have seen enough of it in my time. I'll 
 begin as I mean to go on. Every man under 
 me shall know I'm his master, and treat me 
 according. You may laugh, but it is truth I 
 am telling you. I have thought the whole 
 matter out, and I will manage my people on 
 very different lines to any I have seen yet.' 
 
 ' I know it will not be your fault if the work 
 be not done,' remarked Selwyn soothingly. 
 
 * It won't be my fault, because the work 
 shall be done,' retorted Mr. Kerry, indignantly 
 rejecting the proffered sop. 'And I will be 
 treated with respect. From the day I get a 
 district every man in my office shall call me 
 ''sir.'" 
 
 For the life of him Selwyn could not have 
 helped smiling, not at the discipline proposed, 
 but at the pronunciation of it favoured by 
 Mr. Kerry. To imagine a young fellow
 
 126 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 fresh, perhaps, from some crack college and 
 speaking the pure English, which obtains 
 amongst cultivated persons, told on the 
 threshold of official life that he must address 
 his Irish chief as ' Surr,' was enough to try 
 his risibility. 
 
 Fortunately Mr. Kerry quite mistook the 
 cause of his merriment. 
 
 ' Grin away,' he said ; ' only mind this : if 
 you ever came to me as Assistant, you'd 
 have in office hours to treat me with as much 
 respect as if I were our Sovereign Lady her- 
 self 
 
 ' Indeed, I would try to do so,' answered 
 Selwyn, endeavouring, though not quite 
 successfully, to recover his gravity, which 
 ]\Ir. Kerry's accent, always strong when ex- 
 cited, had again almost upset. ' I should 
 not object to saying '' sir " in the least. I 
 consider it a very proper form of address, 
 and one I might have used here, had I not 
 been warned it would at once stamp me as 
 an inferior.' 
 
 ' Yes, I know that's the notion, and so 
 there's no distinction of rank in the offices. 
 You're as good as Trosdale, Holt's as good as
 
 A FRIEXDL Y CALL. 
 
 vou, and I dare say, if the truth was known, 
 Tom, the porter, thinks himself better than 
 any of us. It is not once in twenty times a 
 porter here says "sir" — do you notice that ? 
 And now just tell me, is there any other 
 service where such a state of things would be 
 tolerated ? The Army and Navy could not 
 exist if the officers were no more than the 
 privates, and there would be some fine scenes 
 in Court if the barristers spoke to the judges 
 as Thistlethwaite speaks to Trosdale. No ; 
 I won't have it when I come to my own ; 
 there is too much of that sort of spirit abroad 
 now. If I had children, do you think I'd let 
 them talk to me as I hear most of them talk- 
 ing to their parents ? A slip of a girl was 
 speaking to her mother the other day, and 
 she says, "Oh no, dear! not at all." ''It's 
 something new to hear a mother ' deared ' in 
 that way," I thought ; but I'll be hanged if the 
 very same evening a lad of fifteen did not 
 call his father " old man." ' 
 
 ' I cannot say I like such familiarity,' said 
 Selwyn pensively — ' I suppose young folks 
 do not mean any harm, though their manners 
 grate on one very often.'
 
 128 THE GOVERNMENT OFEICIAL. 
 
 ' Grate ! I should think they do. But 
 whose fault is it ? — why, their parents', for 
 letting them. If I had called my dad "old 
 man " or my mother a "dear," / know I would 
 have ofot something to teach me better. It 
 all comes round to this. I'll teach my clerks 
 better, and so I tell you.' 
 
 ' I shall not be amazed, then, when I see 
 them.' 
 
 ' You will be pleased, that's what you'll be. 
 Wherever they put me, 1 hope you'll come 
 and stay as long as you like, and I'll start you 
 in the way of managing your own office right 
 when you get one.' 
 
 Pending the period when he was to behold 
 Surveyor Kerry reigning wisely and glori- 
 ously, Selwyn had to study the humours of a 
 little kinofdom which was as ill ruled as anv 
 kingdom can be that is not ruled at all. 
 
 One day in the Tax-Office was a close re- 
 production of the day which had preceded it. 
 The same mechanical work, the same com- 
 plaints from the Surveyor, the same argu- 
 ments between him and Thistlethwaite, the 
 same jokes bandied backward and forward 
 between the latter and Holt, who remained
 
 A FRIENDLY CALL. 129 
 
 in the office as though Mr. Trosdale had not 
 dismissed him, and a succession of visitors 
 urging in every case identical reasons for 
 disputing their assessments. 
 
 Eventually, as the new Assistant learned 
 to know, this monotony has a soothing effect 
 on the brain ; perhaps it may even be the 
 cause of that languor so commonly attributed 
 to all persons in the receipt of public money ; 
 but a young man still fresh from a whole- 
 some and active life, full of energy and keen 
 aspirations, found it a hard thing to endure. 
 The deadly dulness, the absence of congenial 
 companionship, lay like a pall upon his spirits. 
 He yearned for something new, some excite- 
 ment of any sort, even if it were only the 
 excitement of ejecting an angry taxpayer 
 from the office ; for the British taxpayer can 
 be very irate indeed. How irate, how tire- 
 some, how insolent, no one who has not been 
 privileged to deal with him may ever hope to 
 imagine. 
 
 As for Mr. Trosdale, he appeared to take 
 very little interest in the business of his 
 district. His Assistant heard incessant 
 remarks about the backward state of the 
 
 VOL. I. 9
 
 I30 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 work, and endless statements relative to the 
 absolute necessity of doing something to 
 advance it ; but still week after week went 
 by and nothing was done, while Mr. Tross- 
 dale, who usually came late in the morning and 
 left early in the afternoon, seemed to be under 
 the impression that he amply discharged his 
 duty to the Board of Inland Revenue by 
 daily remarking to his staff that things were 
 getting desperate. 
 
 He made no effort himself to right them ; 
 in fact, he scarcely seemed to anticipate a 
 time when his duties would be well kept in 
 hand. He went about the office with the air 
 of a man whose heart was elsewhere, and his 
 mind with it, and looked at things passing 
 before his eyes almost without seeing, cer- 
 tainly without caring for them. Towards 
 Selwyn Mr. Trosdale's manner was equally 
 indifferent. 
 
 The whole day often passed without any 
 communication between the Surveyor and 
 his Assistant, further than a curt ' Good- 
 morning,' and an equally curt ' Good-after- 
 noon.' At other times Mr. Trosdale was 
 talkative, inveighing bitterly against the
 
 A FRIENDLY CALL. 131 
 
 anomalies of the system established by the 
 Income Tax Acts, the crushing nature of 
 the inquisition practised by Mr. Dandison, 
 and the absurdity of making Surveyors re- 
 sponsible for the conduct of persons over 
 whom they had not the slightest control. 
 But whether talkative or silent he was alike 
 impassable, and at the end of many weeks 
 Selwyn was obliged to confess to himself 
 that he knew him no better than on the day 
 when he first entered the office, bearing with 
 him Mr. Dandison's letter. Never did the 
 Surveyor refer to his own private life, nor 
 betray the faintest curiosity with regard to 
 Selwyn's affairs ; while Selwyn, chilled and 
 rebuffed, emulated his chiefs reticence and 
 set his wits to consider how he should make 
 the best of an uncomfortable position. 
 
 Short as his experience of a tax-office had 
 been, he saw already that his path was not 
 likely to be strewn with roses. If what 
 Thistlethwaite said was true, he had made one 
 enemy already. Mr. Cramsey was, perhaps, 
 less able to injure him than Trosdale and 
 his clerk seemed to think ; but the whole 
 affair was unfortunate. Still, there was a 
 
 9—2
 
 132 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 bright side to the picture. He had found a 
 friend in Mr. Kerry, and no doubt if that 
 gentleman remained in his present obliging 
 temper he could teach him all the things 
 which Mr. Trosdale seemed careless of his 
 knowing ; so that in the end the Surveyor s 
 selfish attitude would not count for much. Of 
 Thistlethwaite Selwyn thought very little. 
 At first, while he was inexperienced, no doubt 
 the senior clerk might give trouble. But 
 that would right itself in a very short time 
 when he took his proper position in the 
 office. 
 
 There were many times, however, in those 
 first weeks after his appointment, when he 
 well-nigh lost sight of hope. Mr. Trosdale 
 was as unpromising as a stone wall. He 
 gave his Assistant no hints or instructions : 
 he expressed no pleasure if Selwyn worked 
 hard, or surprise if he showed any know- 
 ledge beyond what he could have picked up 
 from the routine work which was given to 
 him. Such an event did sometimes happen ; 
 for under Mr. Kerry's instructions he made 
 rapid strides in the theoretical part of his 
 work. * Anno Ouinto et Sexto,' and ' Anno
 
 A FRIENDLY CALL, 133 
 
 Declmo Sexto et Decimo Septlmo ' as Mr. 
 Kerry persisted in calling them, bating, of 
 his goodwill, not a jot of their titles, soon 
 became almost as familiar to Selwyn as to his 
 teacher ; though he certainly did not love 
 their verbiage with the same intensity of 
 affection. Mr. Kerry, indeed, was never 
 happier than when rolling forth without once 
 drawing breath some long section having re- 
 ference to ' Any Annuity, Fee-farm Rent, 
 Rent Service, Quit Rent, Feu Duty, Teind 
 Duty, Stipends to Licensed Curates, or other 
 Rent or Annual Payment thereupon reserved 
 or charged.' Such expressions breathed new 
 life into this energetic young man : they were 
 even as a fresh wind blowing on a jaded 
 spirit : his eyes sparkled, and his shoulders 
 twitched — he loved every word of those 
 lengthy enactments. 
 
 ' I don't know what you see in these 
 things that pleases you so much,' Selwyn 
 once said. * It is not English that they're 
 written in, you know.' 
 
 ' Man !' Mr. Kerry would reply, * what is 
 It then .^ Listen to the music of it ! Have 
 you no ears } Hark to the music it makes !
 
 134 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 It's beautiful. " Any Heritable Bond or 
 Wadset " — what's that now ? What's a 
 Wadset ?' 
 
 ' I have not the faintest notion.' 
 
 ' No, nor anybody else,' Mr. Kerry re- 
 joined gravely ; ' but it's a lovely word.' 
 
 Mr. Kerry, indeed, had contracted the most 
 amazinof fondness for Selwvn's lodcrincrs. 
 where he turned up so frequently that his 
 host beo-an to wonder whether he micrht not 
 have about him some talisman, or enchanted 
 stone, which possessed the power of afflicting 
 its owner with the fervent love of every 
 creature who beheld him. 
 
 To do the Irishman justice, however, he 
 was not effusive. His manner, on the con- 
 trary, sometimes savoured of contempt. 
 He considered Selwyn very green, and was 
 at no pains to conceal his opinion, even while 
 he did his best to enable his protege to 
 imbibe some small portion of the worldly 
 knowledge he himself had acquired so 
 laboriously ; but there were times when he 
 seemed to abandon the effort as vain, and 
 sat beside Selwyn's hearth in rapt and 
 open-mouthed contemplation of the ceiling.
 
 A FRIENDLY CALL. 
 
 The silence was generally broken first by 
 Mr. Kerr)- suddenly launching out into 
 some quaint anecdote of his early days, 
 which often induced Selwyn to believe that 
 Thistlethwaite might not be far wrong when 
 he said that Kerr>^ had never put on shoes 
 nor stockings till he entered the Inland 
 Revenue Department. 
 
 Occasionally, though this did not happen 
 often, Mr. Kerry would insist on taking 
 Selwyn out for a w alk after supper ; stalking 
 throuofh the streets like * a d — d ostrich with 
 a cast in its eye !' as was remarked by a 
 gentleman past whom Mr. Kerr\' brushed 
 somewhat carelessly. 
 
 During one of these nocturnal rambles 
 the Irishman, who had been a long time 
 wrapped in silent thought, stopped suddenly 
 and pointed to a house, which was clearly 
 visible at the moment beneath a watery 
 moon. 
 
 * That's where Trosdale lives/ he said. 
 
 * That house ? Why, where are we, 
 then ?' 
 
 'In St. Paul's Square/ answered Mr. 
 Kerrv.
 
 136 THE GOVERNMENT OEEICIAL. 
 
 'It's a dismal hole,' commented Selvvyn ; 
 * and the houses seem very poor. What on 
 earth does he live here for ?' 
 
 ' Why, where would he live ? What's 
 wrong with the place ? And what would 
 just the two of them want with a house as 
 big as the Queen's ? Perhaps it's Bucking- 
 ham Palace you'd have him rent ?' 
 
 ' Two of them !' said Selwyn reflectively, 
 unheeding his friend's sarcasm. * Who's the 
 other ?' 
 
 ' His daughter — no less. Just a slip of a 
 girl !' 
 
 ' I did not think he had a daughter.' 
 
 ' But he has, though. Come along, it's 
 mighty cold here.' 
 
 ' What is she like .'^' inquired Selwyn, 
 moving on the more willingly because at that 
 moment the moon became darkened by 
 clouds, and Mr. Trosdale's house was so 
 hidden from his curious gaze. 
 
 ' Ah ! you'd be proud to know that/ sug- 
 gested Mr. Kerry, with a cunning wink. 
 
 ' Yes, I should,' returned Selwyn, quite 
 unabashed. ' Does she resemble her father?' 
 
 ' Well, I wouldn't say that she does favour
 
 A FRIEND L Y CALL. 137 
 
 him, or that she doesn't. She has a sort of 
 look of him.' 
 
 ' She is not pretty, then ?' 
 
 ' 'Deed, and she is — just the very prettiest 
 girl you ever clapped eyes on — or read about 
 — or saw in a picture.' 
 
 ' That is saying a great deal,' remarked 
 the young man, smiling. 
 
 ' It is not saying a bit too much. You'll 
 not find her equal between John o' Groat's 
 and the Land's End ; but what good will 
 looks do a girl if a man hasn't a chance of 
 speaking to her ?' 
 
 Selwyn was not ready with an answer to 
 this profound question, so he asked : 
 
 * How did you chance to see her T 
 
 * By going to the house.' 
 *Oh!' 
 
 There was a world of meaning in the tone 
 in which Selwyn brought forth this ejacu- 
 lation. It did seem to him strange his chief 
 should seek Mr. Kerry's intimacy whilst he 
 denied all share in it to his own Assistant. 
 Chilled and mortified as he had been by Mr. 
 Trosdale's attitude, he felt for the moment a 
 deeper vexation, and he hardly knew how to
 
 138 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 continue the subject. Mr. Kerry, however, 
 reheved him from all difficulty on this score. 
 
 * Not that he asked me !' he proceeded, in 
 the tone of a man who has a grievance he 
 wishes to ventilate. 'If I'd waited for that, 
 I'd never have entered his doors. No; I 
 thought I'd go and see him, and I went.' 
 
 ' You went without being asked ?' ex- 
 claimed Selwyn in astonishment. 
 
 ' To be sure I did. An' why not ? Any- 
 body might have thought Trosdale 'd have 
 been glad to see a friend coming in to smoke 
 a friendly pipe with him — at all events, I 
 thought so ; and I went up to the door as 
 bold as a lion. It was open, for a tall slip 
 of a girl was just coming out. 
 
 '"Mr. Trosdale at home?" says I, and 
 she says '* Yes ; pray come in," just as if she 
 was expecting and still not best pleased to 
 see me. So I went In, saying to myself, 
 " Faith, you're a sweet flower to be growing 
 in this old duno^eon of a house !" and as soon 
 as I got inside the door, she speaks up, and 
 says, " I suppose it is from the Gas Company 
 you've come?" and I says to myself, "Sure, 
 if she talks like that to the gasmen, divil a
 
 A FRIENDLY CALL. 139 
 
 one of them but 'd give the meter a turn 
 backwards." But I told her that I was 
 come to see Mr. Trosdale out of friendship, 
 and I put in something about being repaid 
 already, which she didn't seem to under- 
 stand, for she only looked a bit stiff, and 
 opened a door. " Father," says she, " this 
 gentleman has been so good as to come to 
 see you." And there was Trosdale sitting 
 at a bare deal table, in an old coat, and a bit 
 of tallow candle in his hand, screwin' and 
 twistin' with a lot of wheels and a boiler 
 before him. 
 
 ' '' Mr. Kerry," says he, '' is anything 
 wronof at the office ?" 
 
 ' " Devil a bit more than usual !" says I. 
 
 ' '' Then pray tell me what I can do for 
 you," says he. 
 
 ''^Oh, I see you're busy," says I; ''I'll 
 sit down and wait. I've come to pay you a 
 friendly visit." Then he grew mighty high 
 all at once, and he said : 
 
 * '' Mr. Kerry, I never knew an Irishman 
 yet who was slow to take a hint." 
 
 ' *' Ye'll not find me behind the rest of 
 them," says I.
 
 I40 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 ' '^ Then, let me tell you, I do not desire to 
 receive any friends unless I specially invite 
 them." 
 
 ' And he walked to the door, and so did I ; 
 and while I was thinking of something nasty 
 to say to him, I found I had got outside of 
 the house, so it wasn't any use.' 
 
 There was something so rueful in Mr. 
 Kerry's tone as he related this incident that 
 Selwyn could not help laughing. 
 
 ' Ay, laugh away,' said his friend ; ' but 
 those as has kind hearts feel it when they'ni 
 nipped by a frost like that.'
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE PARLTAMEXTARY RETURN. 
 
 S has been Indicated, Selvvyn soon 
 grew conversant with the routine 
 of his duties, which at first, if not 
 afterwards, he found monotonous enough. 
 There were large books to be indexed, great 
 bundles of circular letters to be sent out, 
 asking for returns of their Incomes from 
 persons who had not already furnished such 
 information, letters to be written from Mr. 
 Trosdale's dictation, and more rarely an 
 account to be checked, of such a complicated 
 appearance that Selwyn looked forward with 
 dismay to a time when the sole preparation 
 of similar documents would fall to his lot. 
 
 It was not long before he discovered that 
 Mr. Trosdale disliked the accounts quite as
 
 142 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 much as he did, and was glad to entrust 
 them to Thistlethwaite, who, when sober, 
 could compile them far better than the Sur- 
 veyor, and when drunk quite as well. 
 
 At first Selwyn was at a loss to account 
 for the influence which the clerk exercised 
 over Mr. Trosdale. Untrustworthy, un- 
 truthful (the new-comer detected him con- 
 stantly in palpable falsehoods), drunken, 
 insolent, Thistlethwaite appeared the last 
 person suitable for a confidential position in 
 any ofifice. He was a man whom ordinary 
 instinct would have prompted one to shun, 
 so sodden a blackguard did he look. That 
 such a person should be left in charge of the 
 offtce in the Surveyor's absence, should be 
 permitted to see persons who called even on 
 important business, and report on the most 
 serious cases without consulting his chief, 
 puzzled and, in fact, somewhat shocked 
 Selwyn. The whole management of third 
 Liverpool revealed a lack of discipline which 
 seemed to him extraordinary ; but this ascen- 
 dancy of Thistlethwaite was the most inex- 
 plicable feature in it. 
 
 Gradually, however, it dawned upon him
 
 THE PARLIAMENTAR Y RETURN. 143 
 
 that the clerk was tolerated, despite his evil 
 qualities, simply because he had made him- 
 self indispensable. His knowledge of the 
 practice on all points which arose was equal 
 to that of any Surveyor. How he acquired 
 it was a mystery ; but no one could work 
 with Thistlethwaite for long without con- 
 ceiving a kind of admiration for his talents — 
 obscured though they were by his disrepu- 
 table habits. He possessed an extraordinary 
 genius for figures : not any account seemed to 
 baffle him. He had no methods which he could 
 explain by which he worked out his calcula- 
 tions ; to another person he appeared to be 
 wanderino^ throuo^h interminable mazes of 
 figures, heaping results on results without 
 any system. This was done with incredible 
 rapidity, and with the most unfailing accuracy. 
 In addition to these gifts he possessed a 
 kind of low cunning, and delighted in a 
 peculiar kind of dirty police work, which, 
 conjoined with his extensive knowledge of 
 the haunts and manners of shady people of 
 all classes, proved most valuable in tracing 
 out defaulting taxpayers and outwitting them. 
 It was in this sort of occupation that he most
 
 144 THE GOVERNMENT OEFICIAL. 
 
 delighted, and his resources in it were well 
 nigh inexhaustible. 
 
 When any difficulty arose — and difficulties 
 arose very often — the proper method of 
 deallne with it was decided bv a consultation 
 between Thistlethwalte and Mr. Trosdale, 
 in which the clerk suggested and the Sur- 
 veyor deferred to his views. The result did 
 not come before Selwyn unless It contained 
 something for him to copy or check. 
 
 Looking at the ascendancy which the 
 head clerk had obtained in the office, and 
 remembering his dissipated character, Selwyn 
 often wondered whether he did not possess 
 some secret influence over the Surveyor, 
 which would account for the way in which 
 his failino^s were overlooked. It seemed 
 hard to believe that a man w^ould of his own 
 free will submit to an imperious dictation 
 such as Selwyn saw exercised over his 
 chief. 
 
 Thistlethwalte himself was a standing 
 puzzle to Selwyn. From the midst of his 
 sodden, dissolute life there broke forth some- 
 times flashes of a better nature ; suggestions 
 that at some time long past the low drunken
 
 THE PARLIAMENTARY RETURN. 145 
 
 fellow who had then slipped so far down the 
 primrose way must have lived among respect- 
 able people of some culture. There was 
 occasionally an intonation in his voice which 
 made Selwyn look up suddenly, as if he 
 had heard some other person speak. Thistle- 
 thwaite was hardly more than eight-and- 
 twenty, and he looked so much younger, 
 that but for the traces of hard living, and the 
 cynical smile which disfigured his counten- 
 ance, it might have been a child's face and 
 blue eyes looking out from beneath a mass of 
 glossy light brown hair. The blue eyes had 
 often an evil look in them in these days, and 
 the face had grown very sodden ; but there 
 were still traces of a time when their owner 
 might have been a gentleman, and Selwyn 
 thought he could occasionally follow Thistle- 
 thwaite's mind as, led by some chance cir- 
 cumstance, it wandered back to the years 
 when two roads were still open before him. 
 He was not most agreeable to his fellow-man 
 at such times, and the other clerk was usually 
 wise enough to avoid him. These fits of 
 desponding ended generally in an outburst of 
 more than usually heavy drinking. 
 VOL. I. 10
 
 146 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 Such an outburst occurred when Selwyn 
 had been nearly two months in the office. It 
 was a Friday, the day on which the collectors 
 of income tax for the various townships under 
 Mr. Trosdale's control came down to report 
 to him how much they had collected during 
 the past week, and to pay it over to the head 
 collector of Inland Revenue. It was the day 
 in all the week also when Mr. Trosdale most 
 disliked Thistlethwaite to be absent. 
 
 He was greatly annoyed ; there were so 
 many things which Thistlethwaite could have 
 explained and rendered easy for him ; there 
 were papers which Thistlethwaite had referred 
 to one of the collectors for a report ; the case 
 was most complicated, and the collector had 
 a long verbal explanation to make. It was 
 of no use : the case must stand over, the col- 
 lector must come down again some day when 
 Thistlethwaite was there ; he, Mr. Trosdale, 
 knew nothing about the matter. 
 
 Another man was behindhand in his 
 amount ; he ought to have accounted for 
 twice as much as he brought In. The Board 
 were pressing to have the accounts closed, the 
 collector was insolent, and the Surveyor be-
 
 THE PARLIAMENTAR V RETURN. 147 
 
 lieved him to be lying ; Thistlethwaite could 
 have settled the business without any trouble. 
 It was a maddening thing that his clerk 
 had left him to deal with such a swarm 
 of hornets. Either Thistlethwaite should 
 attend to his business, or he must dismiss 
 him and get another clerk. 
 
 * Do you happen to know Thistlethwaite's 
 address, Mr. Serle i^' he asked, when his 
 cogitations had brought him to this point. 
 
 ' Not exactly ; I believe he lives in West 
 Derby, somewhere,' answered Selwyn. 
 
 'That's no good!' returned Mr. Trosdale 
 pettishly. * This makes the fourth day he's 
 been away, and, as if we had not bother 
 enough, here's a Parliamentary Return which 
 must go off to night. I don't understand the 
 thing, I'm sure. Confound those fellows ! 
 they ask for something fresh every fortnight. 
 It's desperate !' 
 
 The Surveyor uttered the last words 
 savagely, as he contemplated a ' refresher ' 
 which had just arrived from the Board, in- 
 forming him somewhat peremptorily that all 
 the papers requisite for the preparation of the 
 said account had been in his hands for three
 
 148 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 weeks, and further, that as the Treasury 
 were pressing for the figures, it was urgently 
 necessary that they should be forwarded by 
 return of post. 
 
 'You'd better go into it with me, Mr. 
 Serle,' said he in a desponding voice, * though 
 I'm sure I don't know what to do with the 
 d — d thing. Just bring the assessments, 
 will you ? Holt will help you.' 
 
 * All of them ?' asked Selvvyn aghast. 
 
 * Yes, yes, of course ; what could we do 
 with a part of them ?' 
 
 Selwyn had not an idea what they were to 
 do with either part or the whole ; but with 
 Holt's assistance the assessments were 
 brought and ranged beside Mr. Trosdale, 
 a formidable pile, and Selwyn's heart sank as 
 he looked at it. 
 
 ' Bring your chair over here, Mr. Serle/ 
 said the Surveyor, indicating a corner of the 
 desk at which he sat ; ' no, you'd better turn 
 round the corner, and face the same way that 
 I do. What parish is this ? Mersea '^. Good 
 God, how dusty it is ! Turn to the summary 
 at the end. Now you call the figures out to 
 me.' Selwyn called them out very steadily for
 
 THE PA RLIAMENTAR V RE TURISf. 149 
 
 nearly half an hour, when the Surveyor 
 pushed his chair back suddenly and struck 
 the table violently with his clenched hand. 
 ' Gracious heavens,' he cried, ' why, that's the 
 gross assessment you've been giving me !' 
 
 *Yes,' said Selwyn abashed; 'I thought 
 you wanted the gross.' 
 
 * Bless my senses !' said the Surveyor, ' if 
 the matter wasn't so desperate I could 
 laugh at your folly.' And he threw himself 
 back in his seat with a heavy groan. ' We 
 shall never get this done,' he said at last. 
 'Why, the whole thing's a net account; we don't 
 want the gross figures at all. My head isn't 
 clear enough for these things ; but I wonder 
 a young man like you didn't see that at 
 once.' 
 
 Selwyn might have retorted that as he had 
 not been allowed to see any of the papers it 
 was not very reasonable to expect him to 
 understand what was required. But very 
 wisely he held his tongue, and before the 
 Surveyor could continue the attack, Holt 
 came round the partition and said : 
 
 ' One of the public wants to see you.' 
 
 'Just go, Mr. Serle, and see who It is,'
 
 15© THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL, 
 
 desired the Surveyor in a tone of utter ex- 
 haustion. 
 
 * It ' was an old woman of the lower order, 
 not to be too precise. She wore an incredibly 
 dirty print dress, and a red and black striped 
 shawl, both of which reeked with the odour 
 of decaying fish. She had red hair, a red 
 face, was monstrously stout, and led a little 
 child by the hand. The exertion of mount- 
 ing the stairs seemed to have fatigued her ; 
 for she had sunk down breathless on a chair 
 just inside the door, and as she gasped and 
 panted the child set up a mournful wailing 
 which was inexpressibly sad. 
 
 ' What can I do for you, ma'am T asked 
 Serle. The old woman gasped more spas- 
 modically than before, and appeared to be 
 trying to articulate something, of which, 
 however, not a word was distinguishable. 
 Selwyn waited a little while, then he tried 
 again. * You wish to see the Surveyor, 
 perhaps ?' he suggested. 
 
 The old woman shook her head. 
 
 ' Oh, my dear man ' she gasped, but 
 
 stopped at that point as if she found it im- 
 possibie to conclude her sentence. The child
 
 THE PARLIAMENTARY RETURN. 151 
 
 had ceased crying, and was staring at Selwyn 
 with a black fore -finger thrust in its mouth. 
 
 * My dear man ' the old woman gasped, 
 
 ' oh, my poor dear soul — oh Lord ! oh Lord !' 
 
 And she shook her head and gasped more 
 than ever, and rocked her body to and fro, 
 till Selwyn really thought she would fall from 
 her chair. 
 
 ' What is all this about ?' said the Surveyor 
 peevishly, appearing at this juncture; ' it's im- 
 possible to work with such a noise going on ! 
 Can't you settle the case quietly, Mr. Serle ?' 
 
 ' I do not know what to do with the old 
 lady,' answered Selwyn ; ' she doesn't seem 
 able to speak.' 
 
 * Good heavens !' said his chief, ' and we 
 so desperately busy. She must go away ; we 
 can't be disturbed in this manner. You must 
 go away, do you hear me ?' he went on, 
 speaking very slowly and distinctly ; * you 
 may come again to-morrow or the day after.' 
 
 ' Oh, my dear man, my poor dear man !' the 
 old woman gasped ; * oh my heart ! oh Lord ! 
 oh dear, oh dear !' rocking herself steadily 
 to and fro while she uttered these disjointed 
 remarks.
 
 152 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 ' This is fate,' said the Surveyor, looking 
 round with the calmness of despair. ' I 
 knew some cursed interruption would come 
 as soon as we settled to the account. Can't 
 you understand me 1' he repeated, turning to 
 his visitor. * I say you must go away ; we 
 are far too busy to attend to you.' 
 
 This time the woman made no answer 
 whatever, but continued groaning and rock- 
 ing herself without intermission. 
 
 * I believe she is insane,' cried the Sur- 
 veyor. ' Holt, just take her to the door of 
 Mr. Cramsey's office and push her in. 
 They've got time to attend to her there, and 
 they'll never find out she doesn't live in their 
 district.' 
 
 This was a commission quite in Holt's 
 way, and he grinned as he led the old woman 
 off, while Mr. Trosdale and Selwyn returned 
 to the account. They had not worked at it 
 for more than ten minutes when the office- 
 door opened and shut violently, and Mr. 
 Kerry bounced round the partition. 
 
 * Mr. Trosdale !' he began vehemently, 
 * here's a divil of an old woman, and sure 
 she's either mad or drunk, or she's got an
 
 THE PARLIAMENTAR V RETURN. 153 
 
 evil spirit in her ; for there's not a word she 
 can say but '' Oh, my poor dear man ! Oh 
 my heart ! Oh Lord ! oh dear !" ' Mr. Kerry 
 imitated the old woman so exactly that Selwyn 
 roared with laughter. ' What's wrong with 
 you now ?' asked Mr. Kerry ; * I wonder 
 what you know about her ; because she 
 belongs to your district, she does. And 
 there's not one of us can make her move ; 
 and what we can't understand is how she got 
 into our office.' 
 
 * Dear me, Mr. Kerry,' said the head of third 
 Liverpool, ' after all the years you've been 
 in the service, I should have thought you 
 capable of settling with one of the public 
 without troubling me.' 
 
 * Of course I can,' said Mr. Kerry, rather 
 huffed ; ' but she's your public, bad luck to 
 her, not mine. Ain't I telling you it isn't my 
 case at all, but yours ?' 
 
 ' Well, well ; just settle it, will you, like a 
 good fellow ? Here's this d — d Parliamentary 
 Return, which must go off to-night, and Mr. 
 Serle understands no more about it than a 
 cat does about building leases.' 
 
 * How should he, sure, the poor stripling ?'
 
 154 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 said Mr. Kerry, instantly appeased. ' See, 
 I'll settle the old hag, and come back and tell 
 you all about it.' 
 
 ' For God's sake, don't !' cried the exasper- 
 ated Surveyor ; but Mr. Kerry did not hear 
 him, or if he did, paid no attention. 
 
 For nearly an hour things went on very 
 quietly, excepting for the visit of two widows, 
 who wished to make a claim for the return of 
 Income Tax, which they stated had been 
 fraudulently collected, advantage having been 
 taken of their ignorance of the law to plunder 
 them. They were pacified and sent away 
 without much difficulty, and there was no 
 further interruption for so long that the Sur- 
 veyor and his Assistant really made some 
 progress. At last, however, the door opened 
 again, and there followed the shuffling noise 
 which Selwyn had learnt to associate with 
 Mr. Kerry's persevering efforts to plant his 
 feet on a higher point on the pillar than he 
 could possibly reach. Mingled with the 
 noise of Mr. Kerry's kicks were the whis- 
 pered comments and subdued chuckles of 
 Holt, to whom Mr. Kerry's efforts always 
 proved of great interest. The Surveyor bore
 
 THE PARLIAMENTARY RETURN. 155 
 
 it for a few minutes without showing annoy- 
 ance ; then he threw down his pencil with a 
 muttered curse. Mr. Kerry probably heard 
 him, for he came round the partition with 
 both thumbs stuck in the armholes of his 
 waistcoat and a pleasant smile on his face. 
 
 'Well, Mr. Trosdale,' he said jauntily; 
 * how's the bloddy tax getting on ? I settled 
 that old Egyptian for you, I did.' 
 
 * What did she want V inquired Trosdale 
 in a surly voice. 
 
 ' Ah ! I don't know what she wanted. I 
 got Tom the porter to take her downstairs 
 and across the way. and set her on a bench In 
 the hall In the Sailor's Home till she came to.' 
 
 The idea of the old lady sitting on a cold 
 bench in the midst of a crowd of sailors till 
 she came to, was too much even for Mr. 
 Trosdale's bad temper, and he laughed 
 heartily. 
 
 * Is that the way you deal with the public ?' 
 he asked, still laughing. ' Take care the Board 
 don't hear of It I' 
 
 'Phooh!' said Mr. Kerry contemptuously. 
 ' Sure, I didn't know who she was, or where 
 she came from. What's this you're doing ?'
 
 156 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 he continued, seating himself on a corner of 
 the desk, and taking up the sheets. * Parlia- 
 mentary Return ? Why, you're all wrong ; 
 that's not the way to do it.' 
 
 * What's not the way to do what ?' asked 
 the Surveyor fretfully. ' Do go away, Kerry,' 
 he proceeded ; ' I think I know my business.' 
 
 * Maybe you do and maybe you don't,' 
 retorted Mr. Kerry. ' Anyhow, you're put- 
 ting sea walls and embankments into it. 
 Man, don't you know how to assess a sea 
 
 wall r 
 
 ' Good Lord !' cried the Surveyor ; ' how 
 many sea walls and embankments have I 
 assessed before you were born ?' 
 
 ' Of course, 1 don't know how many you 
 assessed,' replied Mr. Kerry, with unruffled 
 equanimity ; ' but if you did them like that, 
 you did them all wrong. 16 and 17 Victoria, 
 cap. 34, sec. 37 — why, I'll tell ye the very 
 
 words ' and forthwith the Irishman went 
 
 off at score. 
 
 Mr. Trosdale put his hands over his ears. 
 
 * For heaven's sake, Kerry, get out of this,' 
 he entreated, 'and leave me to manage my 
 office my own way.'
 
 THE PARLIAMENTAR Y RETURN. 1 5 7 
 
 ' Oh, I'm going,' said Mr. Kerry ; ' but 
 mind, I've told you ; and if you get that 
 return back from Dandison with a scraping 
 letter, it won't be my fault ;' and so, after a 
 parting kick at the pillar, Mr. Cramsey's 
 Assistant departed. 
 
 The day had slipped by and it was past 
 two o'clock, and still the return was not 
 finished. The Surveyor sent Holt for some 
 bread and cheese, which he munched while 
 toiling through long rows of figures that 
 seemed to possess the singular property of 
 always adding themselves up incorrectly. At 
 least, the additions and calculations which Mr. 
 Trosdale made with their aid were so invari- 
 ably wrong that any observer would have 
 been forced to the conclusion that there must 
 be something demoniacal about the figures. 
 At last the workings were completed, that is 
 to say, all the blank spaces on the form of 
 account were filled up. And then began the 
 crown of the work — the key-stone, which 
 Selwyn's chief called 'fitting it,' a term 
 that requires some explanation. 
 
 When completed, Mr. Trosdale's return 
 did not ' cross-cast.' In other words, the
 
 1 5 8 THE GO VERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 different items into which the account was 
 divided did not add up, as of course, if cor- 
 rect, they should have done, to the same 
 figures as the grand total. Whether this 
 was due to the inaccuracy of the workings, 
 or to some devilment, as before hinted, 
 among the figures themselves, must be dis- 
 covered by the astute reader. In any case, 
 it is undoubted that the account would not 
 cross-cast. Now if, say, six separate divisions 
 will not add up to a required total, it is 
 obvious that some one or other of the six 
 must be either too large or too small. Which 
 evil, in third Liverpool, was usually remedied 
 by either deducting from, or adding some- 
 thing to, the defaulting item. Furthermore, 
 since the required total is known, the exact 
 amount which is to be added or deducted 
 can be most easily ascertained. These are 
 the great principles on which the art of 
 ' fitting ' an account is founded, worthy to 
 be had in remembrance by reason both of 
 their simplicity and their convenience. There 
 are refinements in this art, as well as in most 
 others. A skilful * fitter ' will not take off or 
 add In one sum the whole amount which he
 
 THE PARLIAMENTARY RETURN. 159 
 
 requires in order to make his account cross- 
 cast ; but will lop and prune from many items, 
 sticking on a little here, and taking off rather 
 more there, lightening shadows and toning 
 down sunshine, till the whole presents an 
 artistic appearance. Trosdale was not, even 
 in his younger days, capable of this high de- 
 velopment of the art. He took off all he 
 required in a single sum, and by one stroke 
 of his pen made his accounts square. There 
 was boldness in this, but it had the disad- 
 vantage of being liable to detection. 
 
 It was done, however, and the blurred and 
 dirty workings were handed to Selwyn to copy 
 fairly for the Board. Mr. Trosdale stretched 
 his arms and wished them at the devil. 
 Selwyn, on whom the worst w^ork of the day 
 had fallen, was trying to concentrate his tired 
 mind on the copy which he was making, and 
 to steady fingers which in spite of him would 
 tremble, when the door opened and Thistle- 
 thwaite walked jauntily in. 
 
 ' Dear me, ]Mr. Thisdethwaite, where have 
 you been }' asked the Surveyor, with wither- 
 ing politeness. 
 
 ' Oh ! some old friends of mine looked me
 
 i6o THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 up/ answered the delinquent. ' Mad fellows, 
 who insisted on my going about with them ; 
 wouldn't take '*No" for an answer. You 
 haven't been wanting me, I hope ?' 
 
 ' No ! We have had little or nothing to do 
 to-day,' said the Surveyor. * Only to take 
 the collectors' money, which was all wrong, 
 and prepare the Parliamentary Return to send 
 to London. A mere trifle, which I and 
 Mr. Serle have just finished. He is now 
 copying it.' 
 
 ' Let's have a look at it,' rejoined the clerk 
 dryly. ' So ! Why, you've been putting in 
 sea wall and embankments ! that'll never do !' 
 
 ' Not do ? why not ?' 
 
 * For the sufficient reason that the Board 
 don't want them. And what's this '^, I don't 
 understand how you got these figures ; this 
 can't be right.' 
 
 * Pish !' exclaimed the Surveyor. ' If 
 there's any mistake, you'd better go into it 
 with Mr. Serle.' 
 
 ' Not much use in doing that,' said Thistle- 
 thwaite, dropping his voice to a mysterious 
 whisper. ' Mr. Serle, I think, mivst have 
 cooked it.'
 
 THE PARLIAMENTAR V RETURN. 1 6 1 
 
 And Thistlethwalte enunciated this with a 
 distinct emphasis, after the manner of a man 
 who means more than he says. Then he 
 went to his drawer, and produced several 
 sheets of neat and careful workings. 
 
 ' If you'll sign this,' observed he with quiet 
 triumph, ' I think we'd better send it instead 
 of Mr. Serle's masterpiece.' 
 
 ' Good Lord !' cried the Surveyor. ' Only 
 to think of how we've spent the day over 
 that infernal account, when it was lying ready 
 all the time !* 
 
 ' I only did my duty in preparing it,' ob- 
 served Mr. Thistlethwalte in a persuasive tone^ 
 and with the sanctified manner Selwyn had 
 already learned to distrust. * If you only 
 would believe, Mr. Trosdale, In spite of 
 what anybody says, that, though I am not 
 always at my post, I never leave my duties 
 unfulfilled ' 
 
 * There, that's enough,' broke in the Sur- 
 veyor impatiently. ' How was I to know by 
 intuition you had precisely what I wanted 
 locked up in your drawer V 
 
 ' And how was I to know by Intuition the 
 Board would require a return I had ready a 
 
 VOL. I. II
 
 i62 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 week ago the very day when I chanced to be 
 absent ?' 
 
 * One of the days when you chanced to be 
 absent, I suppose you mean,' amended Mr. 
 Trosdale. 
 
 ' One of the days then,' acquiesed Mr. 
 Thistlethwalte. * As I do double work when 
 I am here, I don't profess to keep time Hke a 
 chronometer.' 
 
 * I see plainly we shall have to put this 
 office on some different footing,' declared Mr. 
 Trosdale as a sort of general announcement. 
 
 ' Well, I wouldn't begin at the bottom/ 
 retorted the clerk. 
 
 Of this sportive sally Mr. Trosdale took 
 no notice whatever. He merely signed his 
 name at the foot of the return, and saying to 
 Selwyn ' Will you be good enough to see 
 this is sent off .'^' took his hat, and departed, 
 merely vouchsafing the information that the 
 day had so knocked him up he felt he must 
 go home. 
 
 ' And a lively sort of fellow you are to 
 go anywhere,' sneered Thistlethwaite to his 
 fellow clerk. ' After all the trouble I have 
 saved him he has not even the decency to
 
 THE PARLIAMENTAR V RETURN. i d^ 
 
 say *' Thank you." Tm sick to death of the 
 whole thing. Well, I'll be off now ; what's 
 the good of staying here kicking my heels 
 against nothing ?' and ere Mr. Trosdale could 
 have passed under the gloomy portico his 
 clerk was banging the office-door behind him. 
 
 There ensued a pause — dead silence seemed 
 to envelop the tax-offices as with a winding- 
 sheet — not even the sound of Holt's pen 
 scratching over the paper broke a stillness 
 which might be felt ; then the junior clerk 
 said : 
 
 * I have an errand across the way, Mr. 
 Serle, if you don't want me for a minute 
 or so.' 
 
 ^ Very well,' answered Selwyn, too tired 
 and downhearted to make any remonstrance ; 
 though he knew Holt would not put In an 
 appearance again till the next morning. 
 
 Once again the outer door slammed, and 
 the Assistant in third Liverpool was left quite 
 alone. 
 
 There was an awful stillness about the 
 place ; it might have been a city of the dead 
 for all sign or sound of human life. 
 
 The young man felt very weary and very 
 
 II — 2
 
 1 64 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 sad. * Will no change ever come to vary the 
 monotony of this dreadful life ?' he thought, 
 leaning his aching head on his hand. * Ah \ 
 no change can come here — at least, none 
 to me.' 
 
 But he was wrong ; ere very many days 
 a light wind sprung up, bearing on its breezy 
 wings an event which was to influence every 
 day of his future life.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A THAW AT LAST. 
 
 T was a very bad morning In 
 October. The wet summer had 
 passed, only to give place to a 
 wetter autumn. 
 
 In the open country, where there were at 
 least green fields, the outlook was bad enough, 
 but pent up in a town the sequence of wet 
 days to wet nights, and wetter mornings to 
 the previous evenings' downpour, became 
 absolutely heartbreaking. 
 
 Even on Selwyn's cheerful mind the 
 terrible weather, the monotonous character 
 of his work, and a strange life amidst bricks 
 and mortar, had begun to tell, and his step 
 was less elastic, his eyes were less bright, his 
 face was paler, his manner more subdued.
 
 1 66 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 The change wrought in him was indefinable 
 but certain. 
 
 Mr. Kerry noticed it, and remarked to Mr. 
 Trosdale : 
 
 ^ Something ails your griffin ; he looks 
 mighty white and dull' 
 
 Mr. Trosdale, who never troubled himself 
 much about the weal or woe of his fellow- 
 men, took a casual glance at * the fool Mr. 
 Dandison had thought fit to send him,' and 
 observed : 
 
 ' The Government malaria has evidently 
 got hold of Serle as well as of better men. 
 No one can be expected to keep his health 
 and spirits in the blighting atmosphere of the 
 Inland Revenue,' he added bitterly, and then 
 forgot all about the latest victim of Red- 
 Tape- Routine and indignant taxpayers. 
 
 Meanwhile the griffin was fast falling into 
 a melancholy state. He had never been for 
 any long period alone as he felt himself to 
 be in Liverpool. Plenty of good, kindly, 
 genial, hospitable people were to be met 
 hurrying through the streets, but they were 
 not good or kind, or genial or hospitable, to 
 him. There were many houses he would
 
 A THAW AT LAST. 167 
 
 have liked to be free to enter, and leave with 
 the glow of their fires warming his desolate 
 heart ; but the doors remained shut against 
 him. 
 
 To a young and struggling man the first 
 fortnight in a large town is always a fearful 
 and horrible experience, and Selwyn had now 
 passed so many fortnights, each of which 
 seemed quite as bad as the first, that he was 
 fain for the mere sake of change to accept 
 such few and strange invitations as his fellow 
 clerks at rare intervals extended, and to 
 invite them in return. 
 
 The stern necessity for strong drinks, how- 
 ever, created a bar in the way of many such 
 merry-makings. Even gin, if large libations 
 of that wholesome liquor be poured freely on 
 the altar of good fellowship and conviviality, 
 ' tots up ;' and gin was not the spirit most 
 affected by what Mr. Kerry called the 'wild 
 lot ' who reluctantly served her Majesty in 
 her Majesty's own rambling tax-offices in 
 Liverpool. 
 
 Selwyn could not but observe a curious 
 tendency among them all to partake of 
 * Scotch' or 'Irish' more and more up to
 
 i68 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 proof, and less and less adulterated with 
 water. When to this was added a habit of 
 replenishing glasses at shorter and shorter 
 intervals, it may be guessed that a young 
 man on a small salary, who had never been 
 in debt, and never meant to be if he could 
 help it, found after a few ' receptions ' that he 
 would need to take heed to his w^ays if he did 
 not wish to find himself impecunious towards 
 the end of each month. 
 
 So, seeming cold about accepting invita- 
 tions which he did not feel justified in return- 
 ing, he grew to be considered * a stand-off 
 young gentleman ' by his fellow-clerks, and 
 thus found himself ere long — save always 
 for Mr. Kerry — lonely in a strange place, 
 and extremely likely to remain lonely. 
 
 Not a pleasant situation anywhere, and 
 one possibly more unpleasant in Liverpool 
 than in London ; but as there seemed no help 
 for it, Selwyn doggedly set himself to make 
 the best of his lot. 
 
 He went to the office early and left it late. 
 He did what he had to do there carefully, 
 even to the extent of wTiting as neatly as pos- 
 sible, and he was civil to applicants, and tried
 
 A THAW AT LAST. 169 
 
 his best to spare Mr. Trosdale trouble ; but 
 he still felt he was making no progress in 
 that gentleman's good graces. He had also 
 still to guess at much of his daily work, for 
 there was no one in his office to teach him 
 anything. If it had not been for Mr. Kerry 
 he could never have got on at all. 
 
 * Hand it over,' that gentleman would say 
 when he found the griffin puzzling over 
 some paper the meaning of which was 
 stranger than Greek to him. ' Lord bless 
 you ! the writing on the wall was not a bit 
 clearer to my namesake, the blessed prophet, 
 than taxes to me. Hand it over. The 
 man wants an allowance for repairing his 
 chancel, and you are not to let him have it, 
 because he spent the money three years 
 ago. " Provided also — That the deduction 
 allowed under Schedule (A) No. 5, of the said 
 Act of the fifth and sixth Years of Her 
 Majesty Chapter ^^, for the repairs of Col- 
 legiate Churches and Chapels and Chancels 
 of Churches or of any College or Hall in any 
 of the Universities by an Ecclesiastical or Col- 
 legiate Body, Rector, Vicar " — see that now ! 
 — "or other Person bound to repair the same
 
 lyo THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL, 
 
 shall in respect of the Duties under Schedule 
 (A) of this Act be the Amount of the Sum so 
 expended in the Year preceding that in 
 which the Assessment is made instead of an 
 Average of Twenty-one Years as in the said 
 Schedule (A) No. 5 is mentioned." 
 
 ' There you are, plain as a pikestaff. Now 
 you didn't know a word of that till I told you?* 
 
 ' No, certainly ; but I will remember it 
 now. Thank you very much indeed ' 
 
 ' Wait a bit, you're only on the threshold 
 of the matter. You mind what the Act says 
 about that wonderful Schedule A, and all the 
 things that can and can't be done under it.' 
 
 ' Yes ; I think I have mastered a good 
 deal of it.' 
 
 * Well, when you have marked, learned and 
 inwardly digested the whole of it, recollect 
 you are not to take a man's word when he 
 claims an abatement — no, not if he was a 
 Bishop, or the Pope of Rome.' 
 
 ' Why not ?' 
 
 * Why not is it .^ because they're all trying 
 to cheat us. This tax-office is like Ishmael — 
 every man's hand is against it, and its hand is 
 against every man. You can look that up in
 
 A THAW AT LAST. 171 
 
 Genesis next Sunday. It'll be good exercise, 
 and keep you out of mischief. You see, we 
 are always trying to get all we can out of the 
 public for the Queen, God bless her, and the 
 public are always trying to pay us as little as 
 they can, Lord help them ; so what you must 
 do is to keep a bright look-out, and always 
 believe every taxpayer is telling you a lie till 
 you find out he is speaking the truth. That 
 is the tack you'll go on if you want to be a 
 successful Surveyor. Don't let anybody put 
 the comother on you. Give any fellow that's 
 trying to take you in a soft easy answer, to 
 make him think you have swallowed the bait, 
 and then come to me, and we'll have him 
 fast for, maybe, a double assessment before 
 he knows where he is.' 
 
 * But surely, Mr. Kerry, you are not 
 serious ? It would be a dreadful thing to go 
 through the world thinking all men liars.' 
 
 ' And what else are they ? tell me that. 
 Didn't holy David say they were — no more, 
 no less — and I suppose you don't mean to 
 set yourself up as better than David. But 
 you're green still, and soft! By the time 
 you've been in this office a twelvemonth
 
 1 7 2 THE GO VERNMENT OFEICIAL. 
 
 you'll have cast your milk-teeth, and cut a 
 wisdom grinder or two, or my name's not 
 Daniel Kerry. Now I'm telling you, so you 
 need not be surprised when you find yourself 
 as cute as a Yankee lawyer.' 
 
 The prospect held out did not seem so en- 
 ticing as Mr. Kerry seemed to consider it. 
 Nevertheless, ere long Selwyn found there 
 was that amount of fact in his friend's sum- 
 mary of the British taxpayer which underlies 
 most unpleasant statements. 
 
 The dislike to pay anything that can by 
 any possibility be evaded which is an integral 
 part of British sturdy independence led to 
 many a passage of arms between the young 
 Assistant-Surveyor, who wanted to do his best 
 for his Queen, and veteran householders who 
 as earnestly desired to do the best they could 
 for themselves. At first Selwyn had to brace 
 up his courage for these encounters, but so 
 hardening is the force of habit that finally he 
 welcomed such cases as a relief to the tedium 
 of routine work. 
 
 Coached by Mr. Kerry, he could always 
 quote Act and section, to the discomfiture of 
 irate complainants.
 
 A THAW AT LAST. 173 
 
 ' Lay down a broad rule that the office is 
 always right/ said that gentleman, ' and be 
 sure you can't go wrong. And why wouldn't 
 they pay ? sure they ought only to be too 
 proud to be let do it.' 
 
 . 'As if this d d w^eather was not bad 
 
 enough, without having the blood drained out 
 of fellows by infernal young whipper-snappers 
 like you,' said one man in the soft goods line 
 to Selwyn. ' Revenue officers, indeed ! you're 
 nothing better than a parcel of leeches.' 
 
 * It's no use abusing me,' remonstrated 
 Selwyn. * I have no benefit out of your 
 assessment.' 
 
 * You don't stick at a trifle !' retorted 
 the other. * Why everybody knows you have 
 a switching commission on all you can wring 
 out of us.' 
 
 Episodes of this nature were the only in- 
 cidents that varied the monotony of making 
 out returns, entering the amounts received 
 from collectors, filling up circular notices re- 
 questing defaulters to remit within seven 
 days, and occasionally going on circuit to see 
 that no one was sleeping on premises taxed 
 upon the supposition that they were used
 
 174 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL, 
 
 solely for business purposes. Mr. Trosdale 
 himself never went on such a quest ; Thistle- 
 thwaite and Holt discharged their duty in the 
 bar of some public near suspected quarters, 
 while Selwyn, taking no small amount of 
 trouble, for which he never was thanked, 
 found lamentable confirmation of Mr. Kerry's 
 statements concerning the lack of veracity in 
 her Majesty's subjects, and the want of 
 supervision in her Majesty's servants. 
 
 * Not a one of them cares how she is 
 cheated,' said the Irishman, with a mournful 
 shake of his head. ' They never think of 
 all she has to pay, and how badly she wants 
 money ; and what's more, they don't like 
 anybody else to think either, unless it may 
 be that the first of the month is coming, 
 and a month's money with it.' 
 
 Selwyn was not in the least morbid, or 
 inclined to discontent, but there were times 
 when it seemed to him awful to consider that 
 he stood at last face to face with his life, and 
 that this was what life promised to be. 
 
 The expectations he had formed of a Civil 
 Service career might not have been brilliant, 
 but at least they were very different from 
 the reality.
 
 A THAW AT LAST. 175 
 
 * At all events, you will be amongst gentle- 
 men/ his uncle said confidently, when the 
 lad decided to go in for the examination. 
 
 It is quite as well those who love us do 
 not always know how the best laid plans 
 shape themselves. Often as he sat down in 
 his lodgings, or walked through a town 
 where he did not know a creature except his 
 fellow clerks, young Serle felt thankful there 
 was no one to fret about him, no one left 
 from whom to conceal the reality of his 
 position, no one to mourn over the downfall 
 of his fine air-castle. 
 
 For it had been fine to him — fine as hope 
 and high spirit and honest purpose and 
 boyish fancy could build it ; not very great 
 or grand, perhaps, but graceful and beautiful 
 and homelike. 
 
 Well-a-day ! sooner or later we all see our 
 castles level with the ground ; but it is not 
 everyone who beholds minaret and tower, 
 flying buttress and stately arch and fretted 
 roof fade away so quickly as Selwyn Serle did. 
 It towered almost to heaven as he passed 
 out of Somerset House, and within forty- 
 eight hours it lay a heap of ruins on the 
 Liverpool pavement.
 
 176 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 Often in his after life he recalled that first 
 day when he walked up and down dreary 
 back streets, a stranger in a strange town, 
 searching for lodgings — not a friendly hand 
 held out in greeting, not a friendly voice 
 offering him hospitality or even advice. He 
 felt utterly alone and desolate, and when he 
 considered the Inland Revenue Officers, it 
 seemed to him almost that he had fallen 
 amongst a set of ogres. 
 
 ' Things are not quite so bad as they were 
 then/ thought the young man, as he strode 
 down Bold Street, the rain dripping from his 
 umbrella, while streams quite suggestive of 
 the country poured along the gutter and 
 rushed with gurgling sound down the 
 grating. 
 
 There was not much variety to be found 
 in the rooms devoted to third Liverpool. His 
 professional or other duties caused Mr. 
 Trosdale to be so constantly absent that the 
 wonder was to see him in the Surveyor's 
 chair. Mr. Thistlethwaite made it a point 
 of conscience always to follow his principal's 
 example, and invariably showed a clean pair 
 of heels the moment Mr. Trosdale betook
 
 A THAW AT LAST. 177 
 
 himself to those arduous Inspections and 
 appeal cases which seemed of such frequent 
 occurrence. At one period the Assistant 
 from No. 4, or the senior clerk from No. 2, 
 looked in to enliven the solitude of No. 3 ; 
 but such visits of late had not been frequent, 
 and Selwyn often found time hang heavily 
 enough on his hands. 
 
 On that very bad morning in October he 
 found neither Mr. Trosdale nor Mr. Thistle- 
 thwaite in evidence, so proceeded with such 
 work as he could find till Mr. Kerry 
 came in to pencil another mark on the 
 column and ' pass the time of day.' 
 
 ' Where are they all ?' he asked. 
 
 ' I don't know,' answered Selwyn. 
 
 ' Haven't you seen them ?' 
 
 'No.' 
 
 ' This beats everything !' exclaimed 'Mr. 
 Kerrv, seatincr himself on the table and 
 hammering a tattoo on the floor with the heel 
 of one boot. * What can Trosdale be think- 
 ing about ? It's easy to guess where Thistle- 
 thwalte is, but I confess Trosdale bothers 
 me entirely. A man with brains who doesn't 
 drink, or gamble, and who might climb to 
 
 VOL. I. 12
 
 1 78 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 the top of the tree if he liked, to neglect his 
 work this way is beyond the beyonds. And 
 there are those in this very building — not a 
 hundred yards from us either — that would as 
 soon do him a bad turn as a good ; and he'll 
 find that out when it is too late, maybe. 
 Are you coming upstairs with me ? No ? 
 Well, I'll go and try to find a morsel for myself 
 before those swaggering ruffians that are 
 worse than ever the locusts were in the land 
 of Egypt clear the board.' 
 
 * May good digestion wait on appetite/ 
 laughed Selwyn. 
 
 * Faith, it's never digestion fails me, but 
 things to digest, if I am not up a good 
 fifteen minutes before the Custom beasts are 
 let loose for feeding. You'd best come. I 
 don't care what your sorrow may be, it's easier 
 borne full than fastino^.' 
 
 ' I have not any sorrow.' 
 
 ' Tell that to Rowcroft's baby, not to Daniel 
 Kerry. I don't think it's love, for you are not 
 that sort ; and I don't think you're in debt, for 
 you are not that sort either. I can't well tell 
 what ails you, but I know there's something ; 
 may be it is only that you are thinking long.*
 
 A THAW AT LAST. 179 
 
 ' Thinking long ? What do you mean ?' 
 
 ' Well, you are a queer fellow not to 
 understand English when it is spoken to 
 you; but there, I must be off;' and off Mr, 
 Kerry went. 
 
 The afternoon was half spent before Mr. 
 Trosdale appeared. Nodding to his assist- 
 ants, he put his hat on the table, swept a 
 space on his desk clear of papers, and, 
 taking some letters from his pocket, began 
 to write. 
 
 So an hour passed without remark from 
 the Surveyor, and almost without interrup- 
 tion from the outer world. 
 
 Selwyn finished such work as he could 
 accomplish without referring to his chief, and 
 then, seeing that gentleman was too much 
 absorbed In his own correspondence to de- 
 vote any time to him, took a sheet of fools- 
 cap and began to draw. 
 
 A great silence prevailed In the office, a 
 silence that permitted the sound of the 
 cinders falling from the grate to be distinctly 
 heard. 
 
 After a time Selwyn got down from his 
 stool and replenished the fire. As he did so 
 
 12 — 2
 
 i8o THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 he stole a look at Mr. Trosdale, who, with 
 knitted brow and steady hand, might from 
 his appearance have been penning letters 
 deciding the fate of Europe. 
 
 Quietly Selwyn returned to his desk and 
 went on drawing ; outside the rain poured 
 down in torrents ; within the room felt warm 
 and snug : the spirit of the day and place 
 fell upon the Assistant-Surveyor, and, as he 
 sharpened a BB pencil to fill in his sketch, a 
 soothing peace took entire possession of 
 him. 
 
 Mentally he \vas hundreds of miles from 
 Liverpool. He was back in the dear old 
 cottage where he had spent so many many 
 happy years. He had but to lift his eyes 
 and look over the sea ; but to listen, and he 
 could hear the creaking of the windlass as it 
 lowered one bucket to the well and brought 
 up another full. 
 
 Coming winter and driving storm might 
 be holding high carnival in Liverpool, but in 
 his heart there shone the glory of a summer 
 noon. 
 
 Down in the meadows the cows were 
 lying lazily chewing the cud ; in the farm-
 
 A THAW AT LAST. i8i 
 
 yard hens were cackling, cocks crowing, 
 pigeons strutting ; there was the well, shaded 
 by willow and elder trees ; Polly, in a 
 picturesque striped petticoat, a scarlet Gari- 
 baldi, and a coarse white apron, was drawing 
 water ; and Selwyn, though absent, still 
 owner of cottage and stock, was reproducing 
 willow and elder trees, and windlass and 
 buxom country lass. 
 
 With a firm free hand he touched in all the 
 adjuncts of his picture : the old tiled barn, 
 the kennel, the dog on the chain, sleeping 
 in the sun, the railing and close-cut hedge 
 enclosing the yard. Memory and fancy con- 
 cocted delightful reproductions of the hundred 
 trifles which had made up so much of the 
 happiness of his boyhood ; but when he 
 came to the windlass quite another class of 
 drawing appeared. 
 
 In the one case his strokes were free as a 
 bird on the wing ; in the other they were 
 careful and exact — as in a plan. 
 
 * What are you drawing ?' 
 
 In an instant summer — Somersetshire — 
 Polly — the old familiar home, had vanished, 
 and Selwyn was standing in the offices of
 
 i82 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 third Liverpool, startled like one wakened 
 from sleep, looking at Mr. Trosdale with 
 eyes in which the beauty of his happy dream 
 still lingered. 
 
 * I beg your pardon,' he said. * I had 
 finished all the work I could get on with 
 by myself, and as you were wTiting I did not 
 like to interrupt you.' 
 
 ' I am not finding any fault,' answered 
 Mr. Trosdale. * I only ask what you arc 
 drawing.' 
 
 'Nothing but an old well there was in my 
 uncle's yard.' 
 
 'Oh!' 
 
 It would be hard to say whether con- 
 tempt or disgust predominated in the Sur- 
 veyor's tone. 
 
 ' Let me look at it,' he added next moment, 
 as if desirous of finding some extenuating cir- 
 cumstance in the affair. 
 
 Selwyn handed him the sheet of foolscap in 
 silence, and made a feint of looking over 
 some of his cases while Mr. Trosdale 
 examined the drawing with critical atten- 
 tion. 
 
 * You have been wonderfully particular
 
 A THAW AT LAST. 183 
 
 about the details of your uncle's well,' he 
 remarked at last. ' That part of your sketch 
 is like a plan.' 
 
 The artist laughed uneasily. 
 
 * It is out of keeping with the accessories, I 
 admit,' he confessed ; ' but I was trying to 
 make it like a plan.' 
 
 * Why ?' and Mr. Trosdale laid the paper 
 on the table, though retaining hold of it, 
 while he looked at Selwyn earnestly — almost 
 eagerly. 
 
 * Because my landlord thought he had hit 
 on a new idea about a crane. He is the 
 manager of a small foundry, and seems a 
 clever, practical sort of fellow ; but when he 
 told me his notion, I felt sure I had seen 
 something like it before, and told him so. I 
 could not remember where, till it jumped into 
 my head just now.' 
 
 Mr. Trosdale took up the drawing again. 
 
 * Your landlord must be a great fool,' he 
 remarked. 
 
 * Quite the contrary ; he is anything but a 
 fool/ retorted Selwyn, not sorry perhaps to 
 be able to revenge his own wrongs while 
 defending another person. ' Originally he
 
 i84 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 was a moulder, and he has made his way up 
 entirely by his own exertions. I dare say in 
 a few years he will be partner.' 
 
 ' Still, he knew nothing of a well in which 
 while one bucket comes up full another goes 
 down empty.' 
 
 ' That is so ; but yet, as far as he Is con- 
 cerned, he hit on an original idea.' 
 
 ' Absurd !' said Mr. Trosdale. ' Don't 
 you understand the business of an inventor is 
 to know everything everyone has done before 
 him ?' 
 
 * No. I should have thought, in that case, 
 he could leave himself no time to invent any- 
 thing.' 
 
 Though not in the best of humours then, 
 Mr. Trosdale could not help smiling at the 
 evident sincerity of Selwyn's belief. 
 
 ^ Looking at one portion of this,' he said, 
 again lifting the drawing, * one might think 
 \o\i had studied mechanical drawlne-' 
 
 ' I have studied mechanical drawing,' was 
 the answer. 
 
 Mr. Trosdale let the paper fall and 
 stared in undisguised amazement at his 
 Assistant.
 
 A THAW AT LAST. 185 
 
 * At one time,' went on Selvvyn, ' my uncle 
 was advised that it might be well for me to go 
 in for engineering.' 
 
 ' Why did you not go in for it ?' 
 
 ' I hardly know, except that somebody else 
 advised going in for the Civil Service. I 
 liked the notion of the Civil Service best 
 myself.' 
 
 ' Better than you like the reality now, 1 
 suspect,' said Mr. Trosdale. 
 
 There was an instant's pause, then : 
 
 ' I hope you do not think I am dissatisfied,' 
 answered the young man. 
 
 * I should be very much surprised if you 
 were satisfied,' remarked Mr. Trosdale 
 bitterly. 
 
 * But I am satisfied,' declared Selwyn, as if 
 he had just then come to a complete know- 
 ledge of his own sentiments. ' I have no 
 right to be otherwise. There is no way in 
 which a man can earn his bread which has 
 not some drawback.' 
 
 ' You will find plenty in the road you have 
 chosen — that is, if you did choose it,' said 
 Mr. Trosdale bitterly. 
 
 * No one forced it upon me, at any rate,'
 
 iS6 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL, 
 
 returned Selwyn loyally ; ' and I am well 
 enough content with it. Only some- 
 times ' 
 
 ' Go on.' 
 
 * I ought not to trouble you with my 
 affairs ; they cannot seem very interesting to 
 you.' 
 
 ' I am in the mood to feel interested in 
 your affairs. You were saying that some- 
 times ' 
 
 ' I feel a little lonely. In a little while I 
 shall get over it, no doubt. The work does 
 not trouble me now very much, but it is 
 desolate to be in a place where nobody cares 
 whether I come or eo — whether I am ill or 
 well, happy or wretched.' 
 
 ' But you have friends in Liverpool 1' 
 
 ' Except Mr. Kerry — not one.' 
 
 ' Kerry is not a bad fellow. Did you know 
 him before you came here ?' 
 
 * No ; 1 never saw him till my second day 
 in Liverpool.' 
 
 * Do you mean to say, then, you have no 
 old friends or relatives here ?' 
 
 ' Not one.' 
 
 * Good heavens !' ejaculated Mr. Tros-
 
 A THAW AT LAST. 187 
 
 dale. * Good heavens !' and he fell into 
 a brown study. ' Why did I not know 
 this before ?' he said, suddenly rousing 
 himself. 
 
 To Selwyn the only wonder seemed that 
 his chief knew it then ; but he contented 
 himself by modestly remarking : 
 
 * I never should have thought of intruding 
 my private concerns upon you if they had 
 not come out accidentally through this stupid 
 drawing.' 
 
 ' Ay, the well — to be sure — to be sure !' 
 agreed Mr. Trosdale, as if he were thinking 
 of something else. 
 
 He walked back to his table as he spoke, 
 then stopped and retraced a step or two. 
 
 ' We must have more talk, Mr. Selwyn. I 
 want to see more of you. It is not often 
 Dandison sends me an Assistant in whom I 
 can take the slightest interest. If you look 
 round the offices, you can see the sort of raw 
 material he expects to have worked into 
 some decent pattern. I had lost hope, I 
 confess. You are quite a pleasant surprise 
 to me.' 
 
 It had taken nearly three months to sur-
 
 i88 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 prise him, but Selwyn was not disposed to be 
 over-critical. Young or old, we rarely are so 
 disposed when an insinuated flattery not too 
 gross is addressed to ourselves. 
 
 * But we must get to work,' proceeded Mr. 
 Trosdale virtuously, as though a minute un- 
 improved were a thing not to be thought of. 
 ' Which are the cases on which you wished to 
 consult me ?' 
 
 Selwyn produced his cases, and, having 
 received his information, went hopefully to 
 work, cheered by the interest Mr. Trosdale 
 had evinced. 
 
 The Surveyor, on his part, worked steadily 
 on for about half an hour, at the end of which 
 time he pushed his papers aside, and, resting 
 his head on his hand, remained plunged in 
 thought, till Selwyn, after some hesitation, 
 referred to him once again for information. 
 
 * Have you any pleasant engagement for 
 to-night, Mr. Serle ?' asked his chief, as he 
 handed back the assessment. 
 
 ' Only to go to my lodgings,' answered the 
 young fellow. 
 
 ' Then you might as well walk home and 
 have a cup of tea with me. I am not a rich
 
 A THAW AT LAST. 189 
 
 man,' he hurried on ; * no one is, in this office. 
 And I am even poorer than I ought to be ; 
 but I don't suppose you will mind that ?' 
 
 * Certainly not, except for your own sake,' 
 stammered Selwyn. ' None of my people 
 were rich or even well-to-do.' 
 
 ' I do not live in a grand house, or in what 
 is called a good neighbourhood,* proceeded 
 Mr. Trosdale, ignoring Selwyn's informa- 
 tion about his people ; * for personal reasons 
 I like to live close to this office. I waste too 
 much time in attendinor here from ten till six 
 without wasting more in going to and fro.' 
 
 Though he was not over-critical, the 
 thouorht did cross Mr. Serle's mind that his 
 chief often failed to waste the hours men- 
 tioned in her Majesty's service. 
 
 * So I reside in St. Paul's Square, just off 
 Old Hall Street. I cannot promise you any- 
 thing much in the way of entertainment, but 
 shall be very happy if you will come and take 
 us as we are.' 
 
 ' You are very kind,' Selwyn hesitated, 
 ' but I do not like to intrude.' 
 
 * There is no one on whom you can intrude, 
 for I have only one daughter, and she is
 
 I90 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 generally busy about her own concerns. 
 Don't take up any notions of that kind. I 
 tell you the literal fact. I am a poor man, I 
 live as a poor man, I hold myself aloof from 
 society. Voluntarily I scarcely ever ask a 
 human being across my threshold. I can 
 offer no Inducement, yet I shall be glad to 
 see you.' 
 
 'And I shall be glad to come,' answered 
 Selwyn. 
 
 ' Then that Is settled. Give Tom the 
 letters for post ; lock up, and let us be going. 
 It Is striking six, and the rain seems to have 
 given over.'
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 ST. PAUL S SQUARE. 
 
 HEY walked through the streets 
 almost in utter silence — the 
 younger man full of pleased, 
 excited anticipation, the elder absorbed in 
 thought. 
 
 The full tide of Liverpool life was surging 
 along the pavements. The rain had ceased, 
 as Mr. Trosdale remarked ; the air was 
 fresh and pleasant ; a brisk breeze blowing 
 from the river stirred Selwyn's pulses, and 
 caused his feet to keep step wilh his own 
 glad feelings. 
 
 What he expected to result from the visit 
 to St. Paul's Square, it would be hard to say. 
 Though in many of the best attributes of 
 manhood he had attained his full stature,
 
 192 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 small things still pleased him as they might a 
 child. He had kept his boy's heart through 
 trouble and loneliness and hard work. To 
 such a nature, no better or more merciful 
 ordeal could have been ordained, than that 
 which had previously fallen to his lot. 
 
 It gave him strength without hardness ; it 
 matured the wood without embittering the 
 fruit. His young breast was full of loyal 
 hope and honest aspiration, while it held no 
 grudging as regarded the success of his 
 neighbour. Naturally he wished much for 
 himself, but he wished no other man less. 
 The rich cotton-brokers, hurrying to catch 
 their trains, were welcome to great houses, 
 valuable pictures, showy horses, rare wines, 
 purple and fine linen, and all the other 
 thousand luxuries money is able to command, 
 but he did not envy them. 
 
 He would not have despoiled a creature to 
 enrich himself. Of the world's feast he only 
 desired a modest share. 
 
 He was one of earth's contented children. 
 He could take his pleasure and make his 
 play out of the poorest material. A smile, a 
 word, a kindly greeting, sufficed to send him
 
 ST. PAUrS SQUARE. 193 
 
 on his way rejoicing. Whether the hand 
 which swept the chords of his heart was 
 dehcately soft or hardened with toil signified 
 not one whit, the ready instrument responded 
 to each kindly touch, and gave out sweet 
 music, of which itself was unconscious. He 
 knew St. Paul's Square, its blackened church, 
 its dreary graveyard, its houses, which held 
 no record of former greatness, which showed 
 none of the beauty of age, but in decay were 
 commonplace and conventional, as in youth 
 they had been drearily respectable, yet an 
 invitation to the grandest mansion would have 
 pleased him less. 
 
 He was about to see his chief * at home ;' 
 to penetrate the mystery which enveloped 
 him ; to make friends with this silent, uncom- 
 municative man, who walked through the 
 streets as if he saw no one of the people they 
 met and passed ; who in his carelessly worn 
 clothes loosely hanging upon his spare figure 
 possessed, as Selwyn could not but notice, a 
 presence and an individuality denied to those 
 who had all their lives been basking in 
 fortune's sunshine. 
 
 Mr. Trosdale spoke little as they paced 
 
 VOL. I. i^
 
 194 THE GOVERNMENT OEEICIAL. 
 
 along ; occasionally he essayed some chance 
 observation, but the noise made by the 
 omnibuses, piled high with passengers, and 
 heavy ''floats,"* piled higher with bags, out 
 of which cotton seemed bursting, evidently 
 disconcerted and annoyed him. A man used 
 to go from home to office and office to home 
 without a companion and consequent need 
 for speech, naturally found it trying to keep 
 up conversation with the din of street traffic 
 all around. 
 
 It was not till they turned up one of those 
 mean and narrow lanes that connect Old Hall 
 Street with St. Paul's Square, that he drew 
 a long breath of relief and slightly slackened 
 his pace. 
 
 * You find yourself pretty quiet in Queen's 
 Road,' he remarked. 
 
 ' Not very,' Selwyn answered. * My land- 
 lady has four children ; her neighbour on her 
 right eight bantams ; her neighbour to the left, 
 some game hens and a cock — besides ducks ; 
 therefore, when one at night leaves off, another 
 begins ; while in the morning they are each 
 trying which shall make the most noise.' 
 ^ Local Name for a Low Waggon.
 
 ST. PAUrS SQUARE, 195 
 
 * And you keep your senses ?' 
 
 * Yes ; I have got used to the row. I sleep 
 through it generally ; and my landlady is very 
 good. She does not overcharge me, and she 
 tries her best to make me comfortable.' 
 
 ' You are a long way from the office.' 
 
 ' Too long in such weather as we have had 
 since I came to Liverpool ; but I do very 
 w^ell, and it may be fine some day. It is not 
 raining this evening.' 
 
 ' It will rain again to-night,' said Mr. Tros- 
 dale, in a cheerful spirit of prophecy. * Here 
 is my house, Mr. Serle — and I bid you very 
 heartily welcome to it,' he went on, as he put 
 his key into the lock, and, opening the door, 
 bade Selwyn enter. 
 
 ' Pray sit down,' finding him a chair 
 in the dining-room, * while I see where my 
 daughter is.' 
 
 Left to himself, Selwyn took a hurried sur- 
 vey of the room, which was rendered bright 
 and cheerful by the glow of a huge turf fire. 
 The furniture was worn and old-fashioned, but 
 the chairs might have come straight from the 
 old home in Somersetshire, and been planted 
 on a Brussels carpet which resembled that in 
 
 13—2
 
 196 THE GO l^ERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 his uncle's study, inasmuch as every vestige 
 of pattern had been worn off long previously. 
 
 A few drawings and, probably rare, en- 
 gravings hung on the walls, a skeleton clock 
 ticked on the mantel-piece, the fender and 
 fire-irons were brass, and would have delighted 
 the heart of an aesthete. A corner cupboard 
 held china so rare that a collector could 
 scarcely have kept his hands from stealing ; 
 the Pembroke table was spread with a fair 
 white damask cloth, on which were placed 
 cups and saucers — an antiquated tea service — 
 two or three sorts of bread, and some butter 
 made up in delicate little yellow pats. 
 
 It was all so much like the home where he 
 had spent so many happy days, that Selwyn 
 forgot for a moment to wonder what Miss 
 Trosdale would be like. 
 
 Fancy — founded on Mr. Kerry's enthusi- 
 astic praises — had not led him to expect the 
 ' prettiest girl in Lancashire, or for that 
 matter the three kingdoms,' would prove a 
 divinity to his taste. 
 
 Mr. Kerry had lauded so many different 
 styles of beauty that it was somewhat difficult 
 to imagine what the appearance of a lady
 
 ST PAULS SQUARE. 197 
 
 who seemed to have won the prize of his 
 approval might be ; but, after deep thought, 
 Selwyn came to the conclusion that he should 
 find Miss Trosdale a buxom, bouncing lass, 
 with black hair, red cheeks, a superfluity of 
 smiles and dimples, long gold earrings, a 
 lively manner, and a wealth of words. 
 
 His friend had drawn his attention to many 
 young ladies possessed of these and similar 
 charms — characterizing them as ' swate cray- 
 tures ;' but then Mr. Kerry's heart was ' big 
 enough,' as he said, ' to take in all sorts and 
 sizes ' — and consequently golden hair and 
 blue eyes, sometimes celestial noses, and anon 
 aquiline, now * roguish little divils,' and 
 again demure misses * making themselves out 
 to be saints,' excited his admiration. 
 
 When he got to the bottom of a second 
 tumbler of punch, he often broke out suddenly 
 into 
 
 ' Here's to the maiden of blushing sixteen, 
 And here's to the widow of forty,' 
 
 and he would proceed to state : 'There is many 
 a flower in the world's garden of women, and 
 sure you wouldn't be quarrelling with a lily 
 because it isn't a rose, or a violet because it
 
 198 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 isn't like a daffodil' All which expressions 
 rendered it difficult to determine whether 
 Miss Trosdale might more resemble a daisy 
 or a peony. 
 
 While Selwyn was marvelling about Mr. 
 Kerry's ' loveliest flower of all,' his chief 
 returned accompanied by a girl who did not 
 in the least fulfil any preconceived idea con- 
 cerning her. 
 
 As the young fellow bowed, coloured, and 
 took the slim white hand held out in greet- 
 ing, he could not make up his mind whether 
 he liked Miss Trosdale or not. His one 
 over-mastering feeling was surprise — what 
 charm could such a man as Mr. Kerry have 
 found in this girl, with her refined face, trained 
 Voice, and self-possessed manner ? The whole 
 thing was unintelligible. 
 
 Selwyn had never seen anyone like her 
 before — anyone who instantly cut so deep an 
 impression on his mind. It seemed as if for 
 ever he should not be able to forget her face, 
 as if, at one single glance, it had stamped 
 itself indelibly on his recollection. 
 
 And yet it was not beautiful. Selwyn told 
 himself decidedly that Miss Trosdale was
 
 ST. PAUnS SQUARE. 199 
 
 not lovely — neither was she pretty — neither, 
 when he came to exhaust the matter, was 
 it her looks which produced such an im- 
 pression. 
 
 He could not define the feeling that seemed 
 to take possession of him. She had as much 
 individuality as her father — yet there was not 
 any real resemblance between them. 
 
 ' Have you not some cold meat, Madge T 
 asked the Surveyor. ' I am sure Mr. Serle 
 must be hungry.' 
 
 ' Certainly. Some shall be brought in a 
 moment,' answered Miss Trosdale ; and 
 simple as were the words, they thrilled 
 through Selwyn. 
 
 Though he could not have told what the 
 quality was which made her tone cause every 
 nerve in his body to vibrate, he felt them 
 quiver even while he was saying that he could 
 not eat any meat — that he never took any 
 meat with his tea. 
 
 * You are quite sure ?' asked Miss Tros- 
 dale, in a quiet matter-of-fact way. 
 
 * Quite,' answered Selwyn, deciding that he 
 did not like her. 
 
 She poured out the tea and sat utterly silent
 
 200 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 while Mr. Trosdale made conversation with 
 their guest. 
 
 Selwyn did his best to second his host's 
 efforts, but he was not at ease. Spite of 
 himself, his eyes would stray towards Miss 
 Trosdale. Already her face was familiar to 
 him, as if he had known it for years, and yet 
 he could not resist a constant desire to study 
 it again. 
 
 It was not the thick, dark, wavy hair which 
 attracted him, though that was arranged with 
 surely more artistic simplicity than hair ever 
 was before ; it was not her clear brown eyes, 
 sunny as those of a child, and yet with depths 
 in their expression which puzzled and troubled 
 him ; it was not her delicate complexion, in- 
 nocent of that red he fancied had won Mr. 
 Kerry's heart ; or her sweet, sensitive 
 mouth, or rounded chin, or fair white throat, 
 on which her head was set so well — no, it was 
 none of these things, but a strength and pur- 
 pose that seemed to influence her every 
 movement and pervade her very silence. 
 
 There was power about her. Selwyn did 
 not know what the quality might be she pos- 
 sessed, but it affected him strangely.
 
 ST. PAULS SQUARE. 201 
 
 Amongst all the women he had seen — and 
 the women with whom he chanced to have 
 been intimate were all of a good class in life 
 — he had seen none like her. 
 
 * Mr. Serle has been more than two months 
 here, Madge, and does not know a creature 
 in Liverpool,' Mr. Trosdale remarked to his 
 daughter, finding she contributed nothing to 
 the general conversational weal. 
 
 ' That sounds very dreary,' she said 
 politely, though with no great show of in- 
 terest. Yet she turned towards Selwyn as 
 she spoke, and looked at him with some 
 attention. 
 
 * Things are not quite so bad as Mr. Tros- 
 dale seems to imagine,' answered the young 
 fellow, trying to laugh, but making a failure 
 of the attempt. ^ There is my landlady, who 
 is a very good landlady, and her husband, 
 who sometimes comes up and smokes a pipe 
 in my room ; and two or three of our men 
 have been kind enough to spend evenings at 
 my place, and ask me to spend evenings with 
 them. I cannot boast a large circle of ac- 
 quaintances, certainly, but I am not quite 
 desolate.'
 
 20 2 THE GOVERNMENT OEFICIAL. 
 
 ' You must feel very lonely though, and 
 miss all your friends in London sadly,' said 
 Miss Trosdale, with a sympathetic earnest- 
 ness which made Selwyn think that after all 
 he did like her. 
 
 * 1 have not many friends in London either,' 
 he explained. * I only stayed there while 
 passing my examination. My home is, at 
 least, it used to be, in Somersetshire.' 
 
 His wound was not so green that a touch 
 pained him ; rather, the sense of loss had 
 passed into that stage when it seems a relief 
 to talk about it. He had held his peace for 
 so long — so long. For weary weeks and 
 months he had spoken to no soul save his 
 own concerning the gaps made by death. 
 He had shrunk from seeking sympathy — 
 tried even to refrain from pitying himself; 
 but just at that moment he felt as if he would 
 have liked Miss Trosdale to say one word 
 which might lead him naturally to tell her 
 about the old house, where those he had 
 loved might dwell again no more. 
 
 But she did not utter that or any word — 
 instead, she gave him another cup of tea ; it 
 was good tea — better than any Selwyn could
 
 ST. PAUL'S SQUARE. 203 
 
 manage to make for himself in his lodgings ; 
 while Mr. Trosdale, taking up the running, 
 observed that Somersetshire was a very fine 
 county, he believed — he had never been there, 
 however — only in Devon and Cornwall. 
 
 Selwyn knew both Devon and Cornwall 
 very well ; and he and his chief went on 
 talking about the scenery and comparing 
 notes of travels till Miss Trosdale, taking 
 advantage of a lull, informed her father there 
 was a good fire in the drawing-room. 
 
 * Is there?* said Mr. Trosdale. 'Perhaps 
 you will come upstairs then, Mr. Serle. If 
 you are fond of music, my daughter will play 
 something for you presently — perhaps you 
 play yourself.'^' 
 
 Selwyn disclaimed the latter fiattering sug- 
 gestion, stating at the same time how much 
 he liked to hear other people play.. 
 
 ' You are coming, Madge ?' suggested Mr. 
 Trosdale, pausing at the door. 
 
 * I will be up presently,' she answered. 
 And Selwyn and his chief proceeded to the 
 drawing-room, which was an apartment on 
 the first floor, not much larger than that they 
 had left, by reason of a portion of the length
 
 204 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 having been cut off to form a small chamber, 
 the door of which opened from the landing. 
 
 ' It is but a makeshift of a house/ observed 
 Mr. Trosdale ; * but it suits me.' 
 
 Selwyn said very honestly that he thought 
 the house a delightful house — ' So warm and 
 comfortable,' he added, looking with con- 
 tented eyes into the glowing fire. 
 
 * I hope you will come to us often then,' 
 remarked Mr. Trosdale hospitably. 
 
 A good deal surprised, Selwyn answered 
 that he should be very glad to do so, and 
 that Mr. Trosdale was very kind ; and all the 
 time he was thinking how curiously the scents 
 belonging to his Somersetshire home seemed 
 reproduced in this queer, little Liverpool 
 square — the pot-pourri, a faint fragrance of 
 lavender, a penetrating smell of cedar- wood. 
 
 And there stood his dead mother's piano, 
 or its double — a rosewood square, by Collard. 
 
 He could see the maker's name, for the 
 instrument was open, and it was not quite 
 full compass — not like the Erard at Sea 
 Court ; but he knew the tone would be sweet 
 and familiar. 
 
 Further between the windows he noticed
 
 ST. PAULS SQUARE. 205 
 
 an old convex mirror — the very ditto of one in 
 which he had beheld his young face distorted 
 ever since he could remember anything ; 
 while the sofa-table might have been twin- 
 brother to that on which he had seen his 
 mother's work lying, just as she put it down 
 for the last time. 
 
 It was fortunate, perhaps, that Miss Tros- 
 dale entered when he got to this point in his 
 reverie. 
 
 ' Do you care for bezique, Mr. Serle ?' she 
 asked. 
 
 Selwyn hesitated. 
 
 ' I am sure he does not,' interposed her 
 father. ' He would rather hear you play — 
 wouldn't you ?' 
 
 ' Much rather,' answered Selwyn. 
 
 * On your own head be it then/ said 
 the girl gravely. And she moved to the 
 piano. Selwyn followed, but was chilled 
 with : 
 
 ' Thank you, I generally play without 
 notes.' 
 
 ' And even when she has the music she 
 perfers to turn over for herself,' added Mr. 
 Trosdale. * Come and make yourself com-
 
 2o6 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL, 
 
 fortable in this armchair. I want to talk to 
 you/ 
 
 Though being talked to seemed to Selwyn 
 a singular way of enjoying Miss Trosdale's 
 music, yet feeling it was not for him to 
 object, he took the seat indicated, while Mr. 
 Trosdale drew his chair close beside his 
 guest. 
 
 For more than an hour the girl played on 
 — dreamy melodies, fantastic mazurkas, grand 
 sonatas, and still through all she heard the 
 hum of conversation. Mr. Serle spoke little, 
 but her father spoke a great deal. He was 
 talking about new inventions, recent dis- 
 coveries — in a word, science gossip. Now 
 and then she caught a sentence ; but for the 
 most part she heard only scraps, such as, 
 
 * Highly interesting,' ' nothing like it has 
 been done since,' 'lacked perseverance,* 
 
 * patent lapsed,' ' the usual fate.' 
 
 At last, after she had played the slow 
 movement in the Pathetic Sonata, she with- 
 drew her fingers lingeringly from the keys, 
 and sat before the piano quiet. 
 
 * Thank you, Madge ; that was very beau- 
 tiful,' exclaimed Mr. Trosdale.
 
 ST. PAUL'S SQUARE. 207 
 
 * Thank you, oh ! thank you, Miss Tros- 
 dale/ said Selwyn, making his escape from 
 the fireplace. * Are you too tired to play 
 something else ?' 
 
 * I am not tired,' she answered ; ' but I 
 think supper must be ready. Shall we go 
 down, father ?' 
 
 It seemed to Selwyn but a few minutes 
 since they had come up, and now the pleasant 
 evening was nearly over, and he would soon 
 have to turn out and go back to his lodgings, 
 for which he felt suddenly an unaccountable 
 distaste. 
 
 ' I am afraid I have stayed very late,' he 
 said, when supper was ended, and he rose 
 to go. 
 
 He looked at Miss Trosdale as he made 
 his apology, in hopes, perhaps, that she would 
 answer it was still quite early, but she did 
 nothing of the kind. 
 
 * I do not think it is very late,' she ob- 
 served with judicial calmness, holding out her 
 hand as she spoke. 
 
 Mr. Trosdale was much more cordial. 
 ' Must you really go so soon ?' he asked. 
 * Well, I know it is a long distance to your
 
 2o8 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 lodgings ; I will walk a little way with you. 
 I generally turn out for a smoke after supper.' 
 Miss Trosdale stood till she heard the 
 hall-door close behind them, then she re- 
 sumed her chair with a heavy sigh, and sat 
 for full fifteen minutes with hands clasped 
 together upon the cloth, thinking — thinking.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 MADGE. 
 
 O matter how much he had desired 
 to keep the fact of his visit to St. 
 Paul's Square a secret from Mr. 
 Kerry's knowledge, it would have proved 
 impossible for Selwyn to do so. The Irish- 
 man possessed a childlike curiosity, and was, 
 moreover, a very sleuth-hound when once he 
 scented a mystery. He must become ac- 
 quainted with the matter sooner or later, and 
 Selwyn decided that, although he need not 
 volunteer information, he had better not 
 attempt any disguise on the subject. He 
 would wait the progress of events ; and, as 
 it happened, he had not to wait long. 
 
 ' That was a fine trick you served me last 
 night,' said Mr. Kerry, entering the office 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 14
 
 2IO THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 next morning long before the hour when the 
 machinations of those hated Custom House 
 gentlemen rendered his attendance upstairs 
 imperative. 
 
 ^ What did I do ?' asked Selwyn. 
 
 * Ay, you may well ask that. What didn't 
 you do, rather ? Sure, you stayed out all 
 night.' 
 
 ' That I did not !' interrupted the culprit. 
 
 * Most part of it, anyhow ; and me sitting 
 in your lodgings, fretting myself into a fever 
 about you. And that decent landlady of 
 yours ready for you with a fine fire, and the 
 table spread as if you were a lord, and new- 
 laid eggs fit for a king, and honey, no less, 
 and a brown loaf hot out of the oven would 
 have made a dead man eat, and not a sign of 
 you, or a token, no more than of last year's 
 swallows. What possessed you to stay out 
 without saying whether you'd ever be back 
 again 1 What happened to you — where were 
 you after all .'^' 
 
 ' I was at Mr. Trosdale's.' 
 
 * And what took you to Trosdale's "^^ 
 
 * He asked me to go home with him to 
 tea.'
 
 MADGE. 211 
 
 * I like that ; it Is no good trying to come 
 Alexander over me.' 
 
 * I don't know who Alexander may be 
 but I did go to Mr. Trosdale's for all that. 
 He asked me, and I went.' 
 
 ' To tea, did you say — to tea, no less ?' 
 ' To tea.' 
 
 * Is it in earnest you are ?' 
 *Yes.' 
 
 ' This beats all. What did he want out of 
 you ?' 
 
 ' I don't know. Nothing, I should say.' 
 
 * Then w^hy did he ask you ?' 
 
 * Merely from kindness.' 
 ' Get along with you.' 
 
 * I am serious. He seemed to think I was. 
 lonely ' 
 
 * He has been a long time finding It out.' 
 
 * Better late than never,' said Selwyn, with 
 a sort of uneasy feeling that personally he 
 had assisted the discovery. 
 
 ' And so he asked you to tea T 
 
 * He did.' 
 
 * Have you a duke for a godfather ?' 
 
 * Decidedly not.' 
 
 * Nor a friend at Court ?' 
 
 14—2
 
 212 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 * Not that I am aware of.' 
 
 ' Then I give it up. I always was counted 
 a good hand at guessing riddles and puzzles 
 and the like, but this beats me. That he 
 should ask you to the house he as good as 
 put me out of, is inconceivable. It is beyond 
 the beyonds.' 
 
 * Perhaps he was in a bad humour the day 
 you called ?' suggested Selwyn, anxious to be 
 polite. 
 
 ' He is not often in anything else.' 
 
 * He was very pleasant last night, hospit- 
 able and genial.' 
 
 * Listen to this ! Well, the whole thing is 
 too much for me. To think of you, a boy I 
 may say I have made, being wanted there 
 while Dan Kerry is left out in the cold ! 
 Still, Trosdale [never did like me, though the 
 Lord alone knows why.' 
 
 ' I think you are mistaken, Mr. Kerry. It 
 was only yesterday he said you were not half 
 a bad fellow.' 
 
 * I'm sure I am obliged to him, even for 
 that trifle ; but it's you baffles me. And so 
 he asked you all of such a sudden you hadn't 
 time to tell that honest woman, your land-
 
 MADGE. 213 
 
 lady, she needn't be looking out for you, and 
 you never went home to put on a clean 
 collar or smarten yourself up a bit.' 
 
 ' We went straight from here to St. Paul's 
 Square.' 
 
 ' And you saw the daughter. She was to 
 the fore, wasn't she ?' 
 
 * Yes, I saw Miss Trosdale.' 
 
 * It is of Miss Trosdale, the old man's 
 daughter, I'm talking, and no other. What 
 do you think of her ? Isn't she just Diana 
 and all the heathen gods and goddesses rolled 
 into one ?' 
 
 * I sincerely hope not, Mr. Kerry. My 
 knowledge of the ladies and gentlemen com- 
 posing the mythology is limited, but for her 
 own sake I trust Miss Trosdale is as unlike 
 them as possible.' 
 
 * I haven't to say much acquaintance with 
 them myself,' confessed Mr. Kerry. * All I 
 mean Is, Miss Trosdale is everything she 
 should be.' 
 
 * Which, unless report lies confoundedly, 
 most of the goddesses were not,' put in 
 Selwyn. 
 
 * Never mind them, tell me what you think
 
 2 14 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 of Trosdale's daughter : you're over head and 
 ears in love with her, of course,' added the 
 Irishman jealously. 
 
 * You must think me a very susceptible 
 fellow.' 
 
 ' 'Deed I don't ; still, I suppose you won't 
 have the face to tell me you didn't lie awake 
 last night till morning dreaming about her/ 
 observed Mr. Kerry insinuatingly. 
 
 * I slept soundly till Mrs. Wells called me, 
 and I didn't dream at all.' 
 
 ' There is a deal of difference between us 
 then. I lost all of my heart taxes haven't 
 broken the first minute my eyes lit on her, 
 and I'd marry the girl to-morrow if I'd any 
 sort of a place to put her up in.' 
 
 * Perhaps she mightn't be willing to marry 
 you,' hinted Selwyn. 
 
 ' She mightn't,' replied Mr. Kerry, as if 
 such an idea touched the very limit of pro- 
 bability. There ensued a pause : Selwyn 
 was considering how he might best change 
 the conversation, and Mr. Kerry was viewing 
 the changed aspect of affairs from every side. 
 * You feel quite set up now, I suppose, that 
 you have got the pass of a house men as
 
 MADGE. 215 
 
 good as you, and longer In the office, were 
 never asked to put foot in ?' he said at last. 
 
 ' I am glad to have found another friend, 
 and that friend my chief,' answered Selwyn 
 with much diplomacy. 
 
 * And now you've had all you want out of 
 him you'll be giving Dan Kerry the cut, 
 "goby,"' 
 
 ' Whatever else I may, be I am not un- 
 grateful,' returned Selwyn in an injured tone, 
 * and I should indeed be so If I forgot all I 
 owe to you.' 
 
 ' Ah ! be easy,' said Mr. Kerry ; * I never 
 did think much of gratitude — it is hanging 
 a millstone round your neck ; and as for the 
 trifle of help I gave you, I would have done 
 as much for anybody, much less one I took 
 to as I did you. For I have liked you very 
 well, and It vexes me a bit to find anybody 
 pushing between us. There, the whole 
 murder Is out ! — but if we are to spend no 
 more pleasant evenings together, at any rate 
 let us part friends/ and he held out his hand as 
 if bidding an eternal farewell to the toddy and 
 the tobacco, the feast of friendship and the 
 flow of soul he had enjoyed so lavishly since 
 Mr. Serle came to Liverpool.
 
 2i6 THE GOVERNMENT OEEICIAL. 
 
 Selwyn took his hand and shook it heartily. 
 
 ' Good heavens, INIr. Kerry,' he said, quite 
 shocked, ' what do you suppose has come 
 between us, what do you suppose is Hkely to 
 come between us ? Why should we not 
 spend as many pleasant evenings together in 
 the future as we have in the past ? Mr. 
 Trosdale will not ask me to his house a^ain 
 for sometime, if he ever does.' 
 
 ' It is hard to tell what he may do.' 
 
 ' At any rate, he won't want me to live my 
 life with him. Let us go up and have some 
 dinner now, and if you are not busy, come to 
 my diggings to-night, and drown your doubts 
 in a glass of punch. My landlord has got 
 me some Irish from a friend he says is not to 
 be equalled.' 
 
 'Sure I know,' said Mr. Kerry, with soft 
 pathos. ' Didn't I sample it yesterday even- 
 ing while I was distracting myself about you .'*' 
 
 'Well, you needn't distract yourself any 
 more ; you see nothing has gone wrong with 
 me.' 
 
 ' That is as it may be.' 
 
 ' That is as it is,' persisted Selwyn, patting 
 Mr. Kerry on the back. ' Come away, or
 
 MADGE. 217 
 
 else those Custom House fellows won't leave 
 us a chance.' 
 
 * Faith, and they won't,' said the Irishman, 
 rallvino: at the reminder like a war-horse 
 sniffing the battle afar off. But though a 
 struggle for potato pasties and such like 
 dainties might temporarily divert Mr. Kerry's 
 mind, Selwyn soon found that not even 
 gallons of whisky punch, cunningly concocted, 
 and artfully seasoned with conversation which 
 always contained some allusion to Victoria 
 quinto and sexto, could allay the uneasiness en- 
 gendered by Mr. Trosdale's civ^ility. ' There's 
 something under it all, and one day you'll find 
 that true, when I am lying in my quiet grave 
 maybe,' and Mr. Kerry shed a not unnatural 
 tear at the picture himself had painted. 
 
 This remark was made after Selwyn's 
 fourth visit to St. Paul's Square — ' The fourth 
 within a fortnight,' commented Mr. Kerry; 
 * the plot is thickening, I tell you. Trosdale 
 has got a notion about you in his head. I 
 don't know what it is ; but mind what I say, 
 he has a notion. My belief points to the 
 conclusion that he has mistaken you for 
 some other person.'
 
 2i8 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 Naturally enough, Selwyn refused to adopt 
 any conclusion so unflattering to himself, and 
 so ungenerous as regarded Mr. Trosdale. 
 
 ' It is only that he thinks I am lonely, a 
 stranger in a strange place,' he declared, too 
 modest to add the addendum, * and I think 
 he has taken a fancy to me.' 
 
 ' And haven't other people been lonely 
 besides you ?' argued Mr. Kerry. * I was 
 lonely once myself, but the devil an invite 
 Trosdale invited me. I was a stranger in 
 a strange place, and what is worse, a strange 
 country, but he never said once, " Come and 
 cut your mutton with us," and when I went to 
 make a friendly call, as one gentleman might 
 on another — assistant or no assistant, chief or 
 no chief — he never asked me to sit down or 
 wet my throat. And you tell me his daughter 
 plays the organ at the black church in the 
 Square. Now there's a thing to let a 
 daughter do ! My mind misgives me about 
 the whole business ; I wish you had never 
 set foot on Trosdale's doorstep.' 
 
 Selwyn certainly could not have echoed 
 this wish. Though he dissembled to Mr. 
 Kerry, life had been happier to him, brighter,
 
 MADGE. 2 19 
 
 better, ever since the evening when Mr. 
 Trosdale took him to St. Paul's Square. 
 So far he had not fallen into habits of in- 
 timacy with his chief, but in lieu of this the 
 glamour of novelty still surrounded his new 
 acquaintances. He did not understand either 
 father or daughter ; but it was pleasant to go 
 to their home, nevertheless. He was at that 
 happy age when people do not trouble 
 themselves about theories, and of that blessed 
 nature which always attributes the best in- 
 tentions to anyone who makes friendly 
 advances ; and certainly in the matter of Mr. 
 Trosdale's invitations he was not likely to 
 look a gift horse in the mouth. 
 
 He felt too glad to escape the tedium of 
 lonely evenings, tempered only by Mr. 
 Kerry's company, to inquire very curiously 
 why and wherefore he alone was singled out 
 for the hospitality of St. Paul's Square. 
 
 On the contrary, the distinction so un- 
 expectedly awarded filled his heart with 
 gratitude. St. Paul's Square might not be 
 an exactly fashionable locality. No one — 
 even a stranger in the city — could regard it 
 as the Belgravia of Liverpool ; but the value
 
 220 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 of all things is relative, and Selwyn's daily 
 life was spent amongst men who desired 
 greatly to be free of Mr. Trosdale's 
 house. 
 
 They believed the Surveyor was rich ; 
 they believed he had influence ; they knew 
 he came of decent people. The scarcely 
 concealed scorn with which he treated his 
 colleagues, and the contempt he evinced for 
 the Commissioners, and, indeed, the whole 
 Civil Service, caused them to consider his 
 intellectual position even higher than his 
 social station. 
 
 When people are absolutely in the dark 
 concerning a man's private life — his expendi- 
 ture, his resources, his employments, his 
 intimates — they are apt to over-estimate not 
 merely his income, but his importance ; and 
 Mr. Trosdale's reputation for wealth, wisdom, 
 and connection was enhanced fifty-fold by 
 the veil of mystery in which he enwrapped 
 himself. 
 
 Mr. Cramsey was as absurdly jealous of what 
 he sneeringly called Selwyn's ' promotion ^ 
 as he could possibly be. Thistlethwaite felt 
 virtuously indignant about such a preference
 
 MADGE. 22J 
 
 being shown to * that young pup.' Mr. 
 Kerry alternated between suspicions of Mr. 
 Trosdale's intentions and envy of the 
 ' snipe's ' luck. Every soul in the office 
 considered Serle had got a lift, and was 
 more or less indignant in consequence. 
 
 *Who is he,' they all wanted to know, 
 'that Trosdale should take to him after 
 having snubbed us T 
 
 ' I am nobody now,' mourned Mr. Kerry, 
 * and it's little enough he'd ever have known 
 about taxes but for me. I am heart- 
 sorry to see him going wrong, for he was 
 a fine lad — a lad anybody might have been 
 fond of.' 
 
 'Going wrong' meant, in Mr. Kerry's florid 
 language, going home for the fifth time with 
 the Surveyor ; and as Selwyn saw the look, 
 full more of sorrow than reproach, the Irish- 
 man fixed on him as they met on the stone 
 steps outside the Custom House, he could 
 not help wondering whether in reality he had 
 been very ungrateful to the first friend he 
 found in that strange town. Full of this 
 idea, he looked back and waved his hand. 
 In reply, Mr. Kerry shook his head mourn-
 
 222 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 fully. He had been solacing himself after a 
 hard day's work with 'just a taste ' of his 
 favourite beverage — ' scarce enough to colour 
 the water ' — and consequently that shake of 
 the head was very mournful indeed. 
 
 More conscience-stricken than ever,Selwyn, 
 while he paced the streets with Mr, Tros- 
 dale, could not help feeling it was a very hard 
 thing not to be able to form a new ac- 
 quaintance without giving offence to an old 
 one. 
 
 The Surveyor divined something of all 
 this perhaps, for he said, as they walked 
 along : 
 
 * That is a good-hearted creature, though 
 he is somewhat unreasonable. He is always 
 willing to do me a good turn, even while he 
 never can quite forgive me for not making 
 him free of my house.' 
 
 There was no possible answer Selwyn felt 
 he could make to this remark except : 
 
 * I think Mr. Kerry would do a good turn 
 for anyone.' 
 
 ' I believe that. He is certainly the best 
 man in the office. Still, he is a rough 
 diamond.'
 
 MADGE. 223 
 
 ' A little odd perhaps/ confessed Selwyn, 
 * but ' 
 
 * Odd ! He is all odd. There is nothing 
 not odd about him,' said Mr. Trosdale, 
 breaking across his Assistant's sentence. ' A 
 queer fish. Dry land means to him the tax- 
 office, and sea whisky-punch.' 
 
 Selwyn laughed even while he said : 
 ' If you knew more of him, I believe you 
 would find that he is possessed of some very 
 sterling qualities. His kindness to me has 
 never fiagged. Looking back, I scarcely 
 know how I could have borne my life at 
 all when I first came to Liverpool, but for 
 him.' 
 
 ' There are excellent traits in Kerry,' ad- 
 mitted Mr. Trosdale, who seemed a trifle 
 unappreciative nevertheless. 
 
 * Most certainly there are.' 
 
 ' I know he has been a friend to you, both 
 in the office and out, so that, though there 
 is another side to the acquaintanceship, I 
 scarcely like to mention it.' 
 
 * You need not,' answered Selwyn. ' Of 
 course, I see what you mean, and I have 
 often wished that Mr. Kerry were different in
 
 2 24 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 some ways ; but I was very thankful for his 
 society a few months ago, and I am very glad 
 when he gives me his society now.' 
 
 Mr. Trosdale smiled — a cold, wintry smile 
 — which showed he read, or at all events 
 imagined he read, a sub-meaning in Selwyn's 
 words. 
 
 * It is not for me to give you advice, but I 
 cannot refrain from venturing on one remark. 
 You know the old saying, *' 111 weeds thrive 
 apace " ? Yes. Well, then, believe one who 
 is a good deal older than you, that nothing 
 attains such tremendous proportions in a 
 short space of time as an undesirable in- 
 timacy.' 
 
 For a minute Selwyn walked on, feeling 
 very much as if he had received a slap in the 
 face ; then he looked at Mr. Trosdale, who 
 smiled, and asked : 
 
 ' Is it not true ?' 
 
 ' I suppose so,' his Assistant answered ; 
 ' but I was not then considering whether the 
 axiom were true or false. I was only won- 
 dering what idea you had in your mind about 
 Mr. Kerry and myself.' 
 
 * Mr. Kerry has proved a very useful
 
 MADGE. 2 2.; 
 
 friend, I know,' said Mr. Trosdale ; 
 ' but ' 
 
 * But we are not Damon and Pythias, 
 if that is what you mean,' interposed 
 Selwyn. ' Neither are we ever Hkely to be. 
 
 ' I am very glad to hear it. That is pre- 
 cisely what I did mean.' 
 
 ' As you said just now, Mr. Kerry has 
 been a most useful friend. But for him, I 
 should not have known even the little I do 
 about the office work.' 
 
 'That is so,' said Mr. Trosdale, with cheer- 
 ful acquiescence. * After such an experience 
 as I have had of the young men Mr. Dan- 
 dison thinks suitable for third Liverpool, I 
 should never have attempted to initiate 
 another into the mysteries of tax- work.' 
 
 In view of ]\Ir. Trosdale's recent cor- 
 diality, it was not quite easy to hint this 
 determination might involve some hardship 
 to the young men Mr. Dandison considered 
 suitable for third Liverpool ; nevertheless 
 Selwyn answered : 
 
 ' I dare say you have had a great deal of 
 difficulty with incompetent Assistants, and I 
 quite understand how very tired you must 
 
 VOL. I. 15
 
 226 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 have got of them. Still, that only makes my 
 obligation to Mr. Kerry the greater, for he 
 took immense pains to teach me e^^en 
 the A B C of office- work.' 
 
 '■ Thistlethwaite ought to have initiated you 
 in the business,' said Mr. Trosdale a little 
 sharply. ' I told him you were new to the 
 whole thing, and that he must act as coach.' 
 
 * He certainly never even attempted to 
 act as anything of the sort. On the contrary, 
 on the few occasions when he has volunteered 
 information, I have found it to be misleading. 
 Further, I have noticed that he has never 
 allowed a single opportunity to pass of trying 
 to damage me with you.' 
 
 * Thistlethwaite is a curious fellow,' replied 
 Mr. Trosdale, receiving Selwyn's statement 
 so quietly, he might have considered one 
 man's desire to ruin another a natural and 
 rather praiseworthy trait. ' He cannot endure 
 the idea of anyone taking the place he occu- 
 pies with me.' 
 
 ' I had no desire to supplant him, so he 
 need not have tried to injure me,' said 
 Selwyn, who was very sore on this sub- 
 ject.
 
 MADGE. 227 
 
 * I am not aware that he ever did try to 
 injure you/ rejoined Mr. Trosdale coldly ; 
 ' at all events, he has not done so. We have, 
 however, drifted on to a topic about which I 
 wish I were never to hear another word. In 
 all its moods and tenses the office is hateful 
 to me. I have quite enough of it in business 
 hours without talking of it at any other time. 
 What I began incidentally to speak about 
 was your intimacy with Mr. Kerry. As we 
 have spoken about it, let us take a turn round 
 the Square and thresh that matter out before 
 we go indoors.' 
 
 So said, so done, they took a turn round 
 the Square, one of them at all events being 
 a good deal surprised by the proposed peri- 
 Q^rination. 
 
 As Mr. Trosdale remained silent after his 
 outburst about the office, it was Selwyn who 
 took up the vexed question of second Liver- 
 pool's Assistant. 
 
 ' I scarcely see how I could have avoided! 
 knowing Mr. Kerry/ he began, * even had I 
 wished to do so.' 
 
 ' You could not have avoided knowing^ 
 him,' Mr. Trosdale agreed, ' being an Assis.- 
 
 15—2
 
 228 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 tant-Surveyor yourself, Mr. Kerry being what 
 he is, and both of you working each day 
 under the same roof.' 
 
 ' Then what is it you object to ?' asked 
 Selwyn. 
 
 ' I — oh, I do not object to anything — I 
 have no right to object ; only it seems to me 
 a pity for a young man to make intimate 
 acquaintances he may afterwards find a diffi- 
 culty in breaking with.' 
 
 * I shall never want to break with Mr. 
 Kerry,' Selwyn declared vehemently. 
 
 ' Perhaps that is quite as well, for I think 
 you will find him stick to you like burr.' 
 
 There was such an amount of truth in this 
 that the simile struck Selwyn almost dumb. 
 Nevertheless he managed to say : 
 
 * I fancy you overestimate the degree of 
 intimacy that exists between Mr. Kerry and 
 myself. As I told you, we are not Damon 
 and Pythias.' 
 
 * And as I told you, I am very glad to hear 
 it.' 
 
 ' Mr. Kerry has been most kind to me,' 
 went on Selwyn, ' and I have the warmest 
 friendship for him ; but I certainly should
 
 MADGE. 229 
 
 never dream of confiding my private concerns 
 to his keeping.' 
 
 ' That is indeed a most excellent resolu- 
 tion,' commented Mr. Trosdale. 
 
 ' Or of discussing with him the private con- 
 cerns of any other friend.' 
 
 Selwyn could not in the least have told 
 why he had proceeded to make this state- 
 ment, but the moment it passed his lips he 
 understood the cause of Mr. Trosdale's 
 anxiety to detach him from Mr. Kerry. He 
 did not wish his affairs canvassed between 
 them, and quite naturally — people do not wish 
 their affairs canvassed by anybody — and then 
 Selwyn's cheeks flamed as he remembered 
 having told the Irishman that Miss Tros- 
 dale played the organ in St. Paul's. Well, 
 he would never tell him anything else, and 
 the flush on Selwyn's face deepened. Mr. 
 Trosdale attributed that flush to innocent 
 indignation, and was not ill-pleased to see it. 
 
 * I think you are prudent, Mr. Serle/ he 
 said. * As you know, I am not a man who 
 asks many questions.' 
 
 * Indeed you are not,' thought Selwyn, a 
 little bitterly, but he only inclined his head.
 
 230 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 * Still I feel certain your rank in life is very 
 different from Mr. Kerry's, and I really think 
 you would do wisely not to commit yourself 
 to him. Perhaps I may seem officious, but I 
 have seen so many people founder on this 
 rock that it is impossible not to speak a word 
 of caution.' 
 
 ' I am very grateful,' said Selwyn, as in- 
 deed he was. ' I have not known a great 
 many people in my life, but those I have 
 known best were certainly different from 
 Mr. Kerry. Still, I could hardly pick and 
 choose, and I like Mr. Kerry, and I ought to 
 like him,' added the young fellow in a burst 
 of loyalty which seemed to touch Mr. Tros- 
 dale, for he answered : 
 
 ' I think you ought ; all I meant to caution 
 you against was liking him too much ; in other 
 words, committing yourself and your affairs 
 to his keeping, as you expressed the matter a 
 minute ago.' 
 
 ' You need not be afraid of that. I am 
 thankful for your advice, which I will not for- 
 get ; but you need not be afraid.' 
 
 * Discretion is one of the earliest lessons 
 young people require to learn,' declared
 
 MADGE. 231 
 
 Mr. Trosdale oracularly. ' I have known 
 a rich man brought to beggary by a 
 schoolboy's simple confidence in his play- 
 fellow.' 
 
 * How very dreadful !' exclaimed Selwyn, 
 genuinely shocked. 
 
 ' That is by no means an Isolated instance. 
 However, I have said my say, and must ask 
 you to excuse me if it has appeared offi- 
 cious.' 
 
 * Indeed it has not,' answered Selwyn 
 earnestly. ' I feel Infinitely obliged for your 
 advice.' 
 
 ' Hereafter you may perhaps have cause to 
 be,' observed Mr. Trosdale, with a worn and 
 weary smile. ' Now let us go in and see if 
 tea is ready.' 
 
 Tea was ready ; indeed, to Selwyn's fancy 
 it seemed that in St. Paul's Square every- 
 thing always was ready ; no long ' waits ' 
 between the acts there. With such a home 
 Mr. Trosdale ought to have been a happy 
 man, yet a child might have seen he was not 
 happy. 
 
 ' Why on earth Is he not ?* thought 
 Selwyn ; ' and what Is the secret he fears I
 
 232 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 should tell, which I would not tell even If I 
 knew It ?' 
 
 That evening differed from any Selwyn 
 had yet spent under Mr. Trosdale's roof, In- 
 asmuch as Madofe never left her father and 
 his guest alone, no, not for a minute. She 
 would not play and she did not talk ; she only 
 worked industriously at some wonderful piece 
 of embroidery, and proved a great check 
 upon the conversation. 
 
 * What are you so busy about, Madge ?' 
 asked Mr. Trosdale, when, it seemed, he 
 could endure the sight of those swift white 
 fingers plying a bright needle no longer. 
 
 ' The latest piece of fancy folly, papa,' she 
 answered, pausing in her employment for a 
 moment, and lifting her wonderful eyes 
 that always when he met them caused a 
 thrill to pass through Selvvyn's heart. 
 
 He could never analyze the feeling those 
 eyes produced, because It was always changing. 
 
 ' It is unusual to find you engaged on any 
 piece of folly,' said Mr. Trosdale, not with- 
 out the suspicion of a sneer. 
 
 ' I am perpetrating this for the St. Canice 
 Bazaar,' she explained.
 
 MADGE. 233 
 
 * What a waste of time !' ejaculated 
 Selwyn's chief. 
 
 ' Perhaps. I am not quite sure of that. 
 Of course, if people were willing to give 
 their money without any fuss and trouble, 
 bazaars would not be necessary ; but as that 
 seems hopeless, we are forced to manage as 
 we can.' 
 
 * And how do you manage ?' 
 
 Mr. Trosdale rarely condescended to such 
 trivial conversation, and he did not shine in it. 
 
 'Why, in this case, INIrs. Verinder finds 
 the materials, and I do the work ; and some 
 lady keeps a stall who does not mind say- 
 ing all her things are beautiful, and will sell 
 this among other trumpery, so a church or a 
 charity is benefited.' 
 
 * Wonderful!' remarked Mr. Trosdale, 
 turning to Selwyn, who was looking at the 
 busy fingers. ' Were you ever at a bazaar, 
 Mr. Serle ?' 
 
 ' Often,' Selwyn answered. ' We used to 
 have a bazaar at Sea Court Magna once a 
 year.' 
 
 ' And you enjoyed it, I am sure !' said Mr. 
 Trosdale sarcastically.
 
 234 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 ' I think I did — I know I did ; though I 
 am not quite sure whether I should enjoy a 
 bazaar now.' 
 
 ' You had better get Mr. Serle tickets for 
 St. Canice's, Madge, and let him try.' 
 
 ' No, I think not,' said Madge pensively ; 
 * the things will be enormously dear, and I 
 am sure Mr. Serle can put his money to a 
 much better use.' 
 
 ' At least you might give him the choice.' 
 
 * If he wants to part with his money not 
 very wisely, there are plenty of openings in 
 Liverpool besides St. Canice,' returned Miss 
 Trosdale, looking straight at Selwyn as she 
 spoke. 
 
 * Good Heavens ! does she think I am 
 spending my money not very wisely ?' con- 
 sidered the young man ; and a wild desire 
 came over him to ' have it out ' with Miss 
 Trosdale. 
 
 He wanted to tell her he was older than 
 she, and not such a simpleton as she evi- 
 dently thought him ; that he knew many 
 things she little suspected, and had thought 
 more than she might be inclined to believe. 
 When he was away from her he made up his
 
 MADGE. 235 
 
 mind resolutely to set himself right with Mr. 
 Trosdale's daughter the next time they both 
 met ; but when they did meet, it was always 
 the same story — she froze him, she stopped 
 the words on his lips, and routed the sentence 
 he was about to speak. Though modest, he 
 had never been shy ; but when in Miss 
 Trosdale's company he felt timid and awk- 
 ward as the veriest lout. At Sea Court his 
 friends had thought he talked rather well — 
 always pleasantly, and, if the company were 
 sympathetic, sometimes cleverly. In St. 
 Paul's Square he might have been a dolt, for 
 any remark, whether wise or witty, on which 
 he adventured. 
 
 * It is very strange,' he thought uneasily; 
 * I never felt like this before : no, not even 
 with Mr. Trosdale, though he kept me at 
 arm's length long enough in all conscience.' 
 
 He was always worrying and perplexing 
 himself over the ^ladge Trosdale question. 
 She was as tantalizing as a locked door, 
 which when open might reveal either a fair 
 garden or some gruesome chamber. Oh ! if 
 he only had the key, if he only knew what key 
 to try, he thought sometimes; and then again
 
 236 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 he made an effort to fling the matter from 
 him, by saying scornfully : 
 
 * Why should I trouble myself about her ? 
 she is not like other women : she has no 
 heart, no feeling ; she is cold as a statue — 
 she is worse than a statue ; that, at least, 
 does not repel.' 
 
 But strive as he would he could not get 
 rid of the girl. She walked with him to and 
 from the office, to others an invisible pre- 
 sence, but to Selwyn palpable enough — in- 
 scrutable, incomprehensible, maddening ! 
 
 He lay awake at night thinking about her, 
 he who had never lain awake before, save 
 when sick or in trouble. She roused him in 
 the morning long before it was time to rise, 
 and looked at the young man through the 
 grey dawn with that inscrutable expression 
 which often made him feel as though, like 
 the Sphinx, she had some awful question to 
 propose, which might be the making or un- 
 doing of his life. 
 
 After a fashion he fous^ht ao^ainst the 
 influence she was exerting over him. * She 
 is not beautiful like some women I have 
 seen ;' and this was quite true, but then it
 
 MADGE. 237 
 
 was true also that not one fair face out of the 
 number he had seen ever haunted and 
 harassed hini Hke the face of his chief's 
 daughter. 
 
 It pestered him In the same manner as a 
 verse of an old song, or some air heard years 
 ago, will dog the tired brain and refuse to be 
 driven away. When he was not thinking 
 about Miss Trosdale in connection with 
 himself, he was wondering concerning her in 
 general — what she did all day long, where 
 she went, if she had many friends, and If so, 
 who they were, and whether they understood 
 her ; and, as though all this were not enough, 
 he had now the fresh conundrum put before 
 him ; how she could have got the notion he 
 was throwing his money about, perhaps even 
 gambling and going to the dogs. 
 
 * If only I could get a chance of speaking 
 plainly to her,' he thought ; but no such 
 chance offered. 
 
 Miss Trosdale went on with her work, 
 while Mr. Trosdale, feeling he had devoted 
 enough time to his daughter, St. Canice, 
 and such like frivolities, turned the conversa- 
 tion to the subject of some local doings
 
 238 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 which were then interesting the town, and 
 which, discussed in a leisurely and prudent, if 
 not very brilliant, fashion, whiled away the 
 time till supper was announced. 
 
 That evening Mr. Trosdale did not 
 volunteer to walk part of the way home 
 with his young friend. He seemed tired and 
 out of sorts, and altogether possessed with a 
 different temper from that which had dwelt 
 in him as they paced round St. Paul's Square 
 discussing Mr. Kerry. The tone, however, 
 in which as he bade Selwyn good-night — and 
 added, * Come soon again ; remember you 
 cannot come too often to see us ' — was 
 heartier than ever; and he stood on the 
 doorstep looking after the young man's 
 figure till he turned the corner and was lost 
 to sight. 
 
 Then he went back into the sitting-room 
 and sat down, looking gloomily first at the 
 table and then into the fire. 
 
 Madge brought her work downstairs and 
 resumed it the moment their guest departed. 
 Anyone might have thought she was earning 
 her daily bread, so intent was she on her 
 occupation.
 
 MADGE. 239 
 
 ' Why is It ?' began Mr. Trosdale, at 
 length breaking the silence, ' that you never 
 can be civil to Mr. Serle ?' 
 
 ' Am I uncivil .'^' she asked, laying down 
 her work. 
 
 ' Yes ; I consider so. You do not take the 
 smallest pains to make the young man feel 
 at home here.' 
 
 * I do not see why I should,' she answered. 
 
 ' Don't you ? but of course not. It Is only 
 the old story again, of which I am growing 
 very weary. I ought to know^ It well though 
 by this time. I should have remembered It Is 
 enough for me to like anyone to ensure your 
 dislike.' 
 
 ' I do not dislike Mr. Serle.' 
 
 ' Really, this Is wonderful !' 
 
 ' He Is well-mannered, and all that ; but 
 he does not seem to me very clever.' 
 
 ^ Allow me to tell you he has excellent 
 abilities,' said Mr. Trosdale angrily, as if the 
 question was one of much greater importance 
 than abilities. 
 
 ' For his sake I am glad to hear it ; for my 
 own, if you mean him to come here often, I can 
 only say I wish he were more amusing.'
 
 240 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 ' More what ?' asked Mr. Trosdale in great 
 astonishment. 
 
 ' More amusing,' repeated his daughter 
 with great distinctness. 
 
 ' Do you w^ant to be amused ?' Inquired 
 her father. 
 
 ' Very much Indeed.' 
 
 Mr. Trosdale fell back in his chair. 
 
 ' Good Lord !' he exclaimed. * What 
 next ?' 
 
 ' Bed, I should think,' said Madge. ' Good- 
 night, father,' she added, kissing him on the 
 forehead. Then, wrapping her embroidery 
 up carefully in some white covering, she 
 went her way. 
 
 They had both been skirting a quarrel, 
 and refrained from plunging into one, the 
 experience of years having taught them the 
 great truth, that from a domestic fray neither 
 side can ever come out victorious. 
 
 Quarters are so close, the wounds inflicted 
 so severe, the combatants at length gladly 
 creep from the fight, feeling that they have 
 lost much and gained nothing. 
 
 For which reason it is prudent never to 
 begin a quarrel with a relation for opponent.
 
 MADGE. 241 
 
 In days gone by there had been bitter wars 
 between Madge and her father, that ended, 
 as wars generally do, in a vast expenditure 
 of time and temper, and no accession of ter- 
 ritory. 
 
 After one of their fiercest battles, though 
 they scarcely spoke for days, they were really, 
 as regarded the matter in dispute, precisely in 
 the position they had been before it began. 
 
 VOL. I, 16
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 MR. ASHFORD. 
 
 EXT day the head of third Liverpool 
 had to do what his soul abhorred — 
 attend a batch of appeals. 
 
 As he was buttoning up his coat and wrap- 
 ping a scarf round his throat preparatory to 
 going out in a drizzling sleet, rendered more 
 wretched by a raw, cutting wind, he said to 
 Selwyn : 
 
 ' I wish you would take pity on me this 
 evening. My daughter is going to Mrs. 
 Verinder's to gossip over some matter con- 
 nected with that j bazaar she spoke of last 
 night, and I shall be all alone. It is not fair 
 to ask you to sacrifice so much of your time, 
 yet I should feel very grateful for your com- 
 paqy ; and I have some things to show you.*
 
 MR. ASHFORD. 243 
 
 Selwyn looked up from his work, genuinely 
 surprised. He had not dreamed of receiving 
 a direct invitation so soon again. 
 
 * I shall be very glad to spend the evening 
 with you,' he answered. ' The only thing 
 of which I am afraid is that you may soon 
 find me a bore.' 
 
 * No chance of that. Then I shall ex- 
 pect to see you — say at half-past six.' And, 
 just for a second, Mr. Trosdale laid his 
 hand on the young man's shoulder, and 
 looked at him with something very much 
 like affection. 
 
 Not for the first time Mr. Kerry's instinct 
 had played him false. He imagined that the 
 Surveyor's tardy advances to young Serle 
 could only be accounted for on the ground 
 that he desired to utilize his Assistant in some 
 way. If it was not money he wanted, it was 
 money's worth. 
 
 ' He's a deep old fox,' considered the Irish- 
 man, ' and I dare say has laid all his plans as. 
 square as you please.' 
 
 But this conclusion chanced to be totally 
 erroneous. Mr. Trosdale's sudden cordiality 
 to Selwyn arose entirely from a necessity 
 
 16 — 2
 
 244 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 which is by no means so much recognised as 
 it deserves. 
 
 Men, even the most reserved, feel im- 
 pelled to talk to some one. If they have no 
 person at home to whom they can speak of 
 the things which interest them, they will find 
 some one abroad. It is as natural for people 
 to try and unbosom themselves as it is for 
 rivers to flow to the sea. 
 
 A baby, for lack of finding any grown up 
 being who understands infant language, 
 babbles to itself. Heaven only knows what 
 wonderful discoveries it confides to its own 
 strange little soul, in words comprehended 
 by no outsider. Later on the child dis- 
 courses to its toys. The youngest school- 
 boy tells the dearest secrets of his short life 
 to a playfellow he has only known a week ; 
 while miss — practising her scales and puzzling 
 over her first French exercise — has vowed 
 eternal friendship and entire communicative- 
 ness to Jane, who, on her part, believes 
 nothing but death can ever part them. It is 
 the same all through life — in all ages, in all 
 stations. The college youth has his chum, 
 the artizan his mate, the soldier his comrade.
 
 MR. ASHFORD. 245 
 
 Whatever the name by which we choose to 
 call the fides Achates, his function really is to 
 hear what another person says. This is the 
 reason why good listeners always are blessed 
 with so many friends ; why they are called 
 sensible, prudent, companionable, delightful, 
 which only means that the need to talk is not 
 felt by them so much as by others. They can 
 refrain ; and such a faculty is as useful in 
 travelling through the world as the ability to 
 exist without water proves on a long march. 
 
 When Mr. Trosdale, on that very wet day 
 in October, first came to a knowledge of the 
 angel sent to him unawares by Mr. Dandison, 
 he was hungering and thirsting for some one 
 to whom he could talk about many matters 
 lying very near his heart. 
 
 If was of no use speaking to Madge. If 
 ever there were an unsympathetic girl on the 
 face of the earth, Mr. Trosdale believed that 
 girl was his own daughter. His wife also 
 had been unsympathetic. Most persons he 
 knew were unsympathetic — either because 
 they chanced to be too practical, or too 
 worldly, or too selfish, or too ignorant, or too 
 unbelieving.
 
 246 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 Six Selfishness, lack of faith, lack of know- 
 ledge, lack of imagination, and lack of appre- 
 ciation, being vices the Surveyor could not 
 endure, he had to get on as best he might, 
 without that help which is only to be obtained 
 by talking very fully and confidentially to 
 some friend who is too wise, or too simple, 
 to contradict us. 
 
 But it is essential that friend should have 
 some knowledge of, or feeling for, what we 
 are talking about. It is not needful he should 
 be an expert. A man, for instance, may ad- 
 mire Wagner to his heart's core, and yet not 
 have the power to play a note of music ; and, 
 in like manner, Mr. Trosdale believed, from 
 the time he saw Selwyn reproducing his 
 uncle's well, that, although his education had 
 in many ways been grievously neglected, he 
 was a young man with a great deal in him. 
 
 The more he saw of the lad, also, the better 
 he liked him. Absolutely guileless, honest, 
 simple, and loyal, he was a most refreshing 
 change, after the Assistants who had afore- 
 time been sent to third Liverpool. 
 
 * If heaven had given me a son,' considered 
 the Surveyor, ' I do not know that I could
 
 MR. ASHFORD. 247 
 
 have wished him very different from Serle, 
 save in the matter of brains.' 
 
 Mr. Trosdale was difficult to please In 
 that respect. Believing himself to be pos- 
 sessed of a lion's share, he naturally con- 
 ceived the majority of other human beings 
 were poorly endowed with genius. 
 
 A favourite theory attains among men of 
 his calibre, that there Is only a certain amount 
 of cleverness in the world, which has not been 
 dealt out with strict impartiality. 
 
 Such a large slice had been bestowed on 
 Martin Trosdale, poor Selwyn Serle was 
 forced to be content with mere crumbs ! 
 
 Of these, however, he had made a very 
 good use, the Surveyor decided, very good 
 indeed. His friends were to blame for not 
 having given him a different sort of educa- 
 tion ; but then friends generally acted wrongly 
 or foolishly In this respect. Indeed, Mr. 
 Trosdale hinted to Selwyn that he himself 
 had suffered from this short-sightedness of 
 friends and relatives, who, he said, ' Make 
 mistakes for which others have to pay the 
 penalty.' 
 
 Hitherto Selwyn had only heard of these
 
 248 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 things in parables after a fashion, but now he 
 was to be fully enlightened both as to the cause 
 which made Mr. Trosdale regard his official 
 work as a mere dead weight, and the hope 
 which kept him alive even under the op- 
 pressions practised by Mr. Dandison. This 
 full confidence was to have been given on 
 the previous evening, had Madge not per- 
 sisted in remaining where she was not 
 wanted. 
 
 Upon her father Miss Trosdale indeed 
 exercised what spiritualists call an ' antagon- 
 istic influence,' and he could no more have 
 opened his mind freely with his daughter 
 sitting listening to his outpourings than those 
 firm in the faith, can get a table to move 
 when a muscular unbeliever has his hand on 
 it. But that night he would have Selwyn 
 all to himself ; and he meant to omit no 
 circumstance of interest, no detail which could 
 aid in giving point and completeness to his 
 narrative. 
 
 The strangely assorted pair chanced to 
 meet at the corner of Old Hall Street, and in 
 good spirits proceeded to their destination. 
 Selwyn had not settled whether he felt glad
 
 MR. ASHFORD. 249 
 
 or sorry that Miss Trosdale was not to be 
 present. He only knew he was pleased to 
 find himself once more in St. Paul's Square. 
 
 ' Pull off your coat, and come in,' said Mr. 
 Trosdale with cheerful hospitality. ^ Should 
 you like to wash your hands ? No ; then 
 we may as well find our way to the fire at 
 once. Let us have tea directly, Ann. Walk 
 in, Serle, please. Why, Madge !' 
 
 ' How do you do, Mr. Serle ?' said Miss 
 Trosdale, in exactly the same tone in which 
 she had said good-night on the previous 
 evening. ' Mrs. Verinder asked me to defer 
 my visit, papa ; so here I am.' 
 
 ' So I see,' answered the Surveyor drily, 
 after the fashion of a man who was mentally 
 adding, * It is a bad job ; but the Lord's will 
 be done.' — ' Is tea ready ?' he w^ent on. ' I 
 have been out nearly all day, and shall be 
 very glad of some.' 
 
 Spite of gallant efforts on Selwyn's part, 
 conversation flagged during the meal to a 
 painful extent. Mr. Trosdale did not strive 
 to conceal his annoyance, and scarcely con- 
 tributed a word to the general weal. As for 
 Miss Trosdale, whatever she may have felt,
 
 250 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 she concealed her emotion very successfully ; 
 and when Mr. Trosdale at length suggested 
 to his guest that it would be pleasanter in the 
 drawing-room, Madge made no movement to 
 accompany them. Selwyn waited for her to 
 pass out, but, as she said with a smile : 
 ' Thank you ; I must remain here for the 
 present,' he had no option left but to follow 
 his host upstairs. 
 
 ' Find a chair for yourself, will you, Serle ?' 
 said Mr. Trosdale, who had already thrown 
 himself upon a couch beside the fire. ' You 
 won't mind if I do not talk for a few minutes? 
 I have a confounded headache. I always do 
 get a headache after I have been to one of 
 those appeals. It will go off if I keep quiet 
 for a little. There are books about some- 
 where ;' and the Surveyor forthwith fell into 
 a brown study, in which so dark were his 
 looks and so haggard his expression, it 
 might have seemed he was reviewing all the 
 dismal events of his life. 
 
 This is one of the great charms of intimate 
 acquaintanceship ; you see a man at his worst, 
 rather than at his best. Mr. Kerry had a 
 favourite phrase about ' fellows who hang up
 
 MR. ASHFORD. 251 
 
 their fiddles at their own doors.* It is a way 
 many people have, and it is the privilege of 
 friendship to be admitted on private days 
 when the public are rigorously excluded and 
 no music of any sort is to be heard. 
 
 Selwyn of course conjectured the true 
 cause of Mr. Trosdale's headache. He had 
 never seen aught but the truest union in 
 families, and the fact that a father and 
 daughter could not stable their horses to- 
 gether jarred on him horribly. 
 
 Yet he did not much marvel at it. Though 
 he longed for Miss Trosdale's approval and 
 liking, he still inconsistently enough felt far 
 more at his ease when she was out of the 
 room than when she was in it. 
 
 Nevertheless, he would have valued her 
 friendship so much (he had always wished for 
 a sister, and the next best thing to a sister 
 was a kind girl-friend), and tried hard to 
 deserve her good opinion ! Why, therefore 
 did she maintain so rigid an attitude towards 
 him ? what had he done to offend her ? how 
 could he put himself right with her ? Idly 
 turning the leaves of a book he had taken 
 up, Selwyn was asking himself these ques-
 
 252 THE GOVENNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 tions, and losing himself for the hundredth 
 time in the Madge Trosdale labyrinth, when 
 the drawing-room door opened, and the ser- 
 vant announced : 
 
 ' Mr. Ashford, sir.' 
 
 Instantly there came an extraordinary 
 change in the Surveyor's whole demeanour. 
 
 If Mr Trosdale had not appeared elated 
 at the unexpected sight of his daughter, the 
 equally unlooked-for entrance of Mr. x^shford 
 seemed, on the contrary, to excite the keenest 
 delight. Looking at him, Selwyn could 
 scarcely believe it was the man who had, a 
 minute before, been lying beside the fire 
 looking with discontented eyes at the blazing 
 coals, that sprang to his feet with the eager 
 agility of youth, and, stretching out a hand in 
 welcome, exclaimed : 
 
 ' Why, Ashford, is it you ? Who would 
 have thought of seeing you ?' 
 
 ' Many people, I should say,' answered the 
 other brusquely, and he came close up to the 
 hearth and, refusing Mr. Trosdale's offer of 
 a seat, drew a chair forward for himself, and 
 sat down in it without taking the slightest 
 notice of Selwyn.
 
 MR. ASHFORD. 253 
 
 There is nothing, except being snubbed, 
 young people dislike more than being ignored, 
 and perhaps it was the fact of Mr. Ashford's 
 neglect which affected his estimate of that 
 gentleman. 
 
 ' Certainly,' he thought, ' I never met a 
 person against whom I conceived a greater 
 prejudice at first sight. What ]\Ir. Tros- 
 dale can see in him passes my comprehen- 
 sion.' 
 
 What Selwyn saw of Mr. i\shford's outer 
 man, was about five feet ten in height, with 
 no depth of chest, no muscle — nothing but a 
 lean, ill-shaped body — a head covered with 
 lank, dark hair plentifully streaked with grey, 
 a sallow face, cantankerous nose, which 
 seemed formed for the purpose of sniffing out 
 offences, ragged whiskers and still raggeder 
 beard, a starved hungry moustache, which 
 quite failed to hide thin twitching lips and 
 bad teeth. His eyes were the most noticeable 
 feature he possessed — being dark, keen, sus- 
 picious, and intensely bright. Selwyn found 
 a fascination in stealing covert glances at 
 them, and speculating on what quality it 
 could be the new-comer owned, which wrought
 
 254 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 such an instant change in Mr. Trosdale's 
 manner. 
 
 ^ And how have you been getting on this 
 long time ?' asked the Surveyor, every trace 
 of weariness and dissatisfaction vanishing as 
 if by magic. 
 
 ' Much as usual. How have you ?' 
 
 ' Much as usual, also,' answered Mr. Tros- 
 dale ; ' progressing a little, but not so fast as 
 I should like.' 
 
 ' I have been down among the iron people,' 
 said Mr. Ashford, * and seen a great many of 
 the new processes. By -the -bye, I have 
 brought something that will interest you,* 
 and, putting his hand into one of his coat 
 pockets, he drew out a pamphlet and handed 
 it to Mr. Trosdale, who, as if to indicate that 
 a third person was present, said : 
 
 ' Let me introduce Mr. Serle to you, Ash- 
 ford. The Somerset House people sent him 
 to me as Assistant, and he is already my very 
 right hand.' 
 
 ^ Oh !' observed Mr. Ashford, and no words 
 could express the dubious meaning he 
 managed to compress into that interjection. 
 
 Selwyn and he had exchanged stiff and
 
 MR. ASHFORD. 255 
 
 antagonistic bows long before Mr. Tros- 
 dale's complimentary sentence was ended. 
 
 ' He has a pretty skill, also, in mechanical 
 drawing,' went on the Surveyor, with an 
 awkwardness arising from his sense of Mr. 
 Ashford's rudeness. 
 
 * Which won't be of much use to him or any 
 one else in the tax-office,' commented that 
 gentleman. 
 
 * It Is an accomplishment which proved a 
 very pleasant surprise to me, however/ per- 
 sisted Mr. Trosdale. 
 
 * I should not have thought you would have 
 cared about such a thing — but no doubt you 
 understand vour own tastes better than I. 
 To revert to what I was saying — I have 
 talked a great deal to several iron-masters, 
 and they all agree that the man who can by 
 simple means effect such a saving as you pro- 
 pose, ought to make his fortune.' 
 
 * Of course he ought,' said Mr. Trosdale ; 
 ' and he will ' 
 
 ' And I have obtained the name of a firm 
 who are always open to go into anything that 
 contains even the elements of success.' 
 
 ^ No— really?'
 
 256 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 * And what Is more/ went on Mr. Ashford, 
 with the manner of a player scoring the last 
 trick, * I have a letter of introduction to them 
 from the largest Ironmaster In the kingdom.' 
 
 ' And I am not yet ready !' exclaimed Mr. 
 Trosdale in a tone of profound despair. 
 
 * That is of no consequence. I thought 
 most probably such might be the case, and 
 suggested leaving the date open — or, rather, 
 inserting no date at all. I have seen and 
 heard of every new idea that is in work up to 
 date, and there Is nothing which reduces the 
 cost of production to the same extent as yours. 
 But perhaps I am talking rather too fast,' he 
 added, turning his eyes towards Selwyn. ' I 
 suppose, though, your young friend is com- 
 pletely in your confidence.' 
 
 * I have mentioned nothing of my hopes as 
 yet,' said Mr. Trosdale ; 'but I have no wish 
 to keep any secret from him.' 
 
 ' Of course that Is your own affair. I agree 
 with the old adage myself — that three people 
 can keep a secret when two are away. But 
 there is no use in talking about that now. 
 The young man, I dare say, knows as much 
 of the affair as I do.'
 
 MR. ASHFORD. 257 
 
 * I assure you,' broke in Sehvyn, ' all you 
 have been saying is as Hebrew to me. I 
 have not the slightest idea to what your con- 
 versation relates, and if Mr. Trosdale will 
 excuse me, I should like to say good evening. 
 You must want to talk without restraint. 
 
 * Sit down — sit down,' said the Surveyor 
 for the young man had risen ; ' you are not in 
 the least a restraint. Mr. iVshford has merely 
 forestalled part of a communication I fully 
 intended to make this evening. Go on, Ash- 
 ford — you were talking about the furnaces 
 you have seen. Do those new ones they put 
 up at Craiglarsea fulfil the expectations that 
 were formed of them ?' 
 
 ' Piff !' scoffed Mr. Ashford, with a gesture 
 of disdain. * A dead failure. Pulling them 
 all down again.' 
 
 * You don't mean that ' 
 
 ' I do miean that ; they won't work at all 
 on a large scale. The cost of fuel is more 
 than the value of the metal produced.' 
 
 ' God bless me !' exclaimed Mr. Tros- 
 dale. 
 
 * Heide, the patentee, swears they were 
 not properly built. He declares the Scotch 
 
 VOL. I. 17
 
 258 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 masons made some mull of his Instructions, 
 but that is all nonsense. Mr. Clay, the 
 managinqr partner, told me the work was 
 done imder his own supervision, that there Is 
 a radical fault in their construction, and that 
 he wishes Helde and his inventions had been 
 at the devil before they risked money on the 
 affair. He never was keen about it, he says ; 
 but Heide, who is a plausible little German, 
 over-persuaded the head of their firm, with 
 the result I have mentioned.* 
 
 * I always thought his scheme somewhat 
 too elaborate, yet it seemed likely to prove 
 successful.' 
 
 ' It Is not successful though — all the better 
 for you, too. The absolute simplicity of 
 your process will be Its recommendation.' 
 
 ' And I have simplified It still more since I 
 saw you. I have within the last three weeks 
 got hold of an Idea whereby the cost of con- 
 struction and expense of working may be 
 reduced by quite a fifth.* 
 
 * That is good ; but I shouldn't spend any 
 more time now fiddling over those sort of 
 things. You'd better look sharp and get 
 your invention Into the market. Other
 
 MR. ASHFORD. 259 
 
 people — practical people — are devoting their 
 attention to the same subject. It Is exciting 
 a great deal of interest, I find, at present, and 
 if you wait for this and the other you may be 
 forestalled after all.' 
 
 ' I am not much afraid of that,' said Mr. 
 Trosdale confidently. 
 
 * Things quite as unlikely have happened,' 
 remarked Mr. Ashford ; ' so I repeat, don't 
 let the grass grow under your feet. Patent 
 your notion without any further delay, and 
 let the men whom it concerns form their own 
 opinion of it. If you have the broad prin- 
 ciples right, what is the use of pottering over 
 petty details ?' 
 
 ' You do not quite understand,' urged Mr. 
 Trosdale. ' The fact is, for all practical 
 purposes, my invention is now complete.' 
 
 * For any practical purpose it never will 
 be complete till you have secured it,' inter- 
 rupted Mr. Ashford. 
 
 ' Well, at any rate, the invention is now 
 perfect ; but I do not want to take a first 
 step with it till I can see my way to take 
 a second.' 
 
 * And you tell me that, after all the money 
 
 17—2
 
 26o THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 you have wasted — yes, I repeat, wasted, 
 Trosdale — over a lot of stupid, rubbishing 
 fads, that did no good to yourself or anyone 
 else.' 
 
 ' I'here was not one of those fads, as you 
 call them,' retorted Mr. Trosdale, touched in 
 his tenderest point, ' that would not have 
 realized a fortune in any hands less unlucky 
 than mine.' 
 
 ' That is as it may be. One thing is cer- 
 tain ; hitherto you have spent a fortune 
 instead of acquiring one. As I always told 
 you, what you lack is concentration — letting 
 well alone, in fact. Now you have got a 
 good thing, do let it alone. Don't fad — 
 don't go off at a tangent — stick to It ' 
 
 * Have I not ?' 
 
 ' And get it patented without delay,' pur- 
 sued Mr. Ashford, unmindful of the interrup- 
 tion. ' Club all your resources together, and 
 lling a big stake on the board at once. Do 
 not keep the thing dawdling about for months. 
 Pay all the fees together, and have them off 
 your mind. You know as well as I do money 
 can be got. Then you may devote yourself 
 to showing people what your invention really 
 is. Faint heart, remember '
 
 MR. ASHFORD. 261 
 
 ' Had my heart been faint, it must have 
 broken long ago,' said Mr. Trosdale, with 
 plaintive pathos. 
 
 'Supper is ready, father.' 
 
 It was Madge who spoke. She had 
 opened the door and crossed the room so 
 quietly, that neither man had heard her 
 entrance nor noticed her presence till, lean- 
 ing over the back of ]\Ir. Trosdale's chair, 
 she interrupted their conversation by an 
 absolutely commonplace announcement. 
 
 Selwyn, who had tried engrossing himself 
 in the Engineer^ so as not to hear a discus- 
 sion from which he would gladly have been 
 absent, laid aside the paper, and looked at the 
 girl as she stood behind her father, contem- 
 plating Mr. xA.shford with an expression in 
 her face the young fellow failed utterly to 
 understand. 
 
 ' I suppose supper can wait,' retorted Mr. 
 Trosdale, with peevish irritation. 
 
 * Certainly, papa, as long as you like,' 
 answered Miss Trosdale. 
 
 ' I move an amendment,' said Mr. Ashford. 
 * Do not let us wait for supper. May I 
 have the honour of taking you down, Miss 
 Madoe ?'
 
 262 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 ' Many thanks, but the staircase Is too 
 narrow for such ceremony,' replied the girl, 
 * as I think I have mentioned before, Mr. 
 Ashford.' 
 
 '■ You have,' he agreed, ' often ; but the 
 fact Is, we were talking about making a 
 fortune, and I saw In Imagination wide stair- 
 cases, great halls ' 
 
 ' And a palace perhaps,' finished Madge, 
 as he paused as If doubtful how to round off 
 his sentence. 
 
 ' Something very like one, at all events. 
 How admirably you can guess my thoughts ! 
 What an age it is since I saw you last, and 
 how charming you are looking ! Are you still 
 devoting yourself to the Muses ?' 
 
 ' I am still teaching. If that is what you 
 mean/ answered Miss Trosdale, as she took 
 her place at table. 
 
 ' That was not exactly what I meant, but it 
 will serve. To revert to what I was saying 
 a moment ago, your father Is on the eve 
 of maklnof his fortune.' 
 
 * I am very glad to hear such good news.' 
 
 * I thought you were going to say you 
 had heard a similar statement ere now, Miss 
 Trosdale.'
 
 MR, ASHFORD. 263 
 
 * I had no intention of saying anything of 
 the sort/ she answered coldly. ' May I give 
 you some beef, Mr. Ash ford T 
 
 ' Thank you. I know of old it is useless 
 asking you to let me carve.' 
 
 There was something in Mr. Ashford's 
 manner which made Selwyn long to kick 
 him ; but, as he reflected, a man cannot 
 always indulge his fancy, which now and 
 then seems a pity. 
 
 * And so, while we poor people w^ere sitting 
 quietly at home, you have been here, there, 
 and everywhere,' said Mr. Trosdale, turning 
 to his guest, who was watching Madge cutting 
 beef with a dispassionate regularity sugges- 
 tive of a schoolmistress. 
 
 * Yes ; I come from going to and fro upon 
 the earth, like an old friend of your daugh- 
 ter's.' (Madge never lifted her eyes.) ' I 
 had a long turn this time — through the Mid- 
 lands, then round Sheffield, Mansfield, and 
 Rotherham — then straight to Coatsbridge, 
 Glasgow, Falkirk, and a score more places ; 
 then I took a flight back to Wolverhampton, 
 after which I felt so great a longing to see 
 dear old Liverpool again, that I jumped into
 
 264 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 the train and came home last night ;' and 
 again, as he finished, Mr. Ashford looked 
 at Madge, though his speech was addressed 
 to Mr. Trosdale. 
 
 ' I am afraid you had not very good 
 weather while you were away,' said the 
 Surveyor. 
 
 * Weather ! don't talk of it, please,' ex- 
 claimed Mr. Ashford. ' When I w^as in Glas- 
 gow I heard a good Presbyterian say, ** Weel, 
 ef thes esn't enouo^h to mak' a mon tern 
 Atheist, tell me." ' 
 
 Mr. Trosdale laughed : the imitation was 
 good, and the sentiment seemed to him 
 natural. At another time he might not have 
 been amused ; but in Mr. i\shford's presence 
 he expanded like a rose in sunshine. 
 
 * You can't have had much more rain than 
 has been vouchsafed to us,' he remarked. 
 * Rain, rain, rain — nothing but rain, wet nights, 
 wet days, sloppy streets — utter misery, and 
 heaven only knows when the weather is going 
 to mend.' 
 
 ' I don't believe heaven knows or cares any- 
 thing about it. Are those walnut pickles be- 
 side you, Trosdale ? — much obliged ; walnuts
 
 MR. ASHFORD. 265 
 
 are a weakness of mine. Now look here, you 
 are an ingenious fellow, always striking fresh 
 oil somewhere, always discovering something 
 new and original. Why not get up a com- 
 pany for the improvement of the British 
 climate ? You want to make your fortune : do 
 that, and it Is made. I present you w-Ith the 
 idea, and I'll write your prospectus. "This 
 company is formed for the purpose of making 
 it possible to live in England during May, 
 for banishing the east wind from our shores, 
 for providing sunshine during November, 
 dispersing fogs and preventing storms." 
 Science has done more than this, science can 
 do this, science will do this. What do you 
 say, Miss Trosdale — capital notion, is it not ?' 
 
 ' I fancy Nature would prove more than a 
 match for science,' answered Mado^e. 
 
 ' A fig for Nature ! played out long since, 
 my dear young lady ; a stupid blundering old 
 grandmotherly creature, who, though she may 
 or may not have served some useful purpose 
 millions of years ago, is only a hindrance in 
 our go-ahead times. Why, only consider 
 the weather she has been treating us to this 
 vear ! Nature must be mad, or drunk, or
 
 266 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 doting, to go on deluging the earth as she 
 has done. Farmers ruined, labourers starv- 
 ing, people dying off as fast as they can, glad 
 to get out of such a dismal world, and still 
 the old idiot won't turn off the water. Come, 
 Miss Madge, even you can't, I am sure, fmd 
 a word to say in favour of the weather we 
 have had for months past.' 
 
 * I am not going to say anything against it, 
 at all events,' she retorted with spirit. ' I 
 cannot tell why we have had so much rain ; 
 but I am sure there is some good reason 
 for it.' 
 
 ' I forgot ; of course, you find good in every- 
 thing — at least, in things no one else can.' 
 
 Selwyn stole a glance at Miss Trosdale. 
 The longing to kick Mr. Ashford grew almost 
 unbearable ; but Madge's face betrayed no 
 feeling which could precipitate such a 
 catastrophe. 
 
 ' There Is no subject on which more non- 
 sense is talked than the subject of Nature,' 
 went on Mr. x^shford, finding no one evinced 
 any burning desire to tramp on the coat-tail 
 he so obviously trailed for that purpose. 
 
 Madge lifted her head and opened her
 
 MR. ASHFORD. 267 
 
 lips as if about to speak, but, thinking better 
 of the matter, remained silent. 
 
 ' You were about to say ,' suggested 
 
 Mr. Ashford with trying politeness. 
 
 ' I am not going to say anything,' she 
 replied. 
 
 ' Then I may go on ; your father under- 
 stands I mean no disrespect to existing 
 authorities, when I declare Nature to be a 
 greatly overrated institution.' 
 
 ' And I agree with you that It Is competent 
 for men to prove the greatest assistance to 
 her,' added Mr. Trosdale. 
 
 ' Thank you ; I will now go further, and 
 observe I think it a great pity Nature is per- 
 mitted to have so much of her own way at 
 this time of day. She goes on muddling 
 matters now much as she did some billions 
 of years ago. Her loose style of work was 
 not of much consequence when there were 
 only mastodons and behemoths, and so forth, 
 to be inconvenienced by It ; but now matters 
 ought really to be put on a different footing. 
 What should we say if a whole ship's com- 
 pany were drowned to gratify some crotchet 
 of the engineer ? — and yet that Is precisely the
 
 268 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 thing Dame Nature in one form or other 
 is doing" every hour.' 
 
 'Will you have some more beef, Mr. 
 Ash ford ?' asked Madge. 
 
 * If you please. It is so pleasant to be 
 partaking of a meal amongst friends again 
 that I feel quite hungry. I am afraid you do 
 not quite agree with what I have been saying 
 about our dear old Mother Nature, Miss 
 Madge.' 
 
 * I do not.' 
 
 ' That fails to surprise me ; in the first place 
 because, to repeat a remark which is true as 
 trite, women can't reason ; and in the second, 
 because you are too much prejudiced to be 
 able to reason as well even as the majority of 
 your sex.' 
 
 * Possibly I cannot reason — very likely that 
 is why I fail to see any sense in talking as you 
 are so fond of doing. It is not Nature you 
 are condemning, Mr. Ashford, but ' 
 
 ' But what ' 
 
 ' The Power that created Nature.' 
 ' Shall we say God at once '^ I am not 
 afraid of speaking of the Power you indicate 
 by its generally received name. I am not
 
 MR. ASHFORD. 269 
 
 condemning that Power : I merely say It is 
 high time we were allowed to interfere more 
 actively with the operations of Nature. We 
 could restrain, adapt, and improve her handi- 
 work. In many ways we do, I admit ; but 
 we have not half so much authority as we 
 ought to possess. She is a very prodigal ; 
 for instance, if she wants to make a few fish, 
 she provides spawn enough to produce, if all 
 went well, hundreds of thousands. It is the 
 same with everything : the waste which goes 
 on in Nature's household is simply indescrib- 
 able. And it is always worthless things 
 she brings into existence wholesale— beetles, 
 mosquitos, kittens, caterpillars, gutter children. 
 One w^ould imagine she might with as little 
 trouble give us useful and ornamental men 
 and women as the beings we are forced to 
 mix with ; but no : she goes on turning out 
 useless and noxious creatures as industriously 
 as though she were employed in executing 
 some great task. Don't you agree with me, 
 Mr. Serle ?' 
 
 ' My prejudices are all in favour of Nature/ 
 answered Selwyn.' ' If you will forgive my 
 saying so, I believe she is going on all
 
 270 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 right, even when she seems to us to be a Httle 
 wrong.' 
 
 * You are a very fooHsh young man.' 
 
 ' It is not impossible; at any rate, I can- 
 not prove that I am a wise one,' answered 
 Selwyn, making a brave fight to keep his 
 temper. 
 
 ' Mr. Serle does not understand what you 
 are driving at,' said Mr. Trosdale, speaking 
 in the new and original character of peace- 
 maker. 
 
 ' What I am driving at is this,' observed 
 Mr. Ashford dictatorially. ' Somehow things 
 were set going a long, long time back — no 
 offence to you, Miss Trosdale, intended by 
 this statement, or to any other member of the 
 company — and what we call, for want of a 
 better word. Nature has been pottering on in 
 the same eroove ever since. There have 
 been great changes in the world, but she 
 ignores them. She hails when the fruit is 
 setting, rains without rhyme or reason, some- 
 times takes a notion to scorch us up, and 
 again strips the roofs off our houses. If 
 these actions be really governed by laws, as 
 wiseacres assure us, it is quite time we set
 
 MR. ASHFORD. 271 
 
 ourselves to work to counteract them. That 
 such weather as we have had this year 
 can be good for man or beast I utterly 
 deny. There should be some sense in all 
 things ; and how any rational creature can 
 conceive these deluges of rain serve any use- 
 ful end passes my comprehension.' 
 
 There was a pause. Whatever Mr. Tros- 
 dale's sentiments, he did not exactly care to 
 applaud. 
 
 After all, it is one thing to grumble, and 
 another to hear those grumblings carried out 
 to their legitimate conclusion. Selvvyn, 
 whose lot had been cast in safe places, where 
 advanced thoughts on any subject were not 
 held in much esteem, remained silent, too 
 much surprised to speak ; while Miss Tros- 
 dale also held her peace, partly because she 
 knew the whole conversation was meant to 
 vex her, and partly for the reason that she 
 did not wish to address a single word to Mr. 
 Ashford she could avoid uttering. 
 
 'Well,' said that gentleman at last, looking 
 at her with a meaning smile, ' are you of my 
 mind about the matter 1 I am sure you are, 
 though you won't say so.'
 
 272 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 * Did you ever read the Book of the 
 Prophet Ezekiel ?' asked Madge. 
 
 ' What, through ? Certainly not !' 
 
 * At the end of the fourteenth chapter," 
 went on the girl calmly. 
 
 ' You will find ' put in Mr. Ashford 
 
 derisively. 
 
 ' After speaking of the four sore judgments 
 that were to be sent on Jerusalem; and other 
 matters which probably would not interest 
 you ' 
 
 ' Not in the least, I assure you.' 
 
 * The Lord says,' persisted Madge — and 
 Selwyn wondered at her resolution even 
 more than at her patience, ' *' And ye shall 
 know that I have not done without a cause 
 all that I have done." ' 
 
 Mr. Ashford turned to Mr. Trosdale and 
 laughed. 
 
 ' Chapter and verse, my friend. Was there 
 ever such a girl. '^ But I am not convinced, 
 and I am not converted, Miss Madge. I 
 believe your daughter is in love with some 
 parson, Trosdale. You had better keep an 
 eye on her.' Which suggestion the young 
 lady heard with an expression of such infinite
 
 MR. ASH FORD. 273 
 
 contempt that Mr. Ashford thought it prudent 
 to change the conversation to poHtics — a 
 theme, however, which found as little favour 
 with the father as love had with the daughter. 
 
 He cared nothing for who was in or who 
 was out. He had no predilection for Liberal 
 or Tory — ' all thieves alike,' was his compre- 
 hensive summary. And, as Selwyn did not 
 incline to air his own views, Mr. Ashford's 
 eloquence was wasted on almost empty 
 benches. 
 
 Conversation dragged unmistakably, and, 
 though it was not late when the honourable 
 member in possession of the house pushed 
 back his chair and said, ' Bless me, I must be 
 off ! I had no Idea it was nearly ten o'clock,' 
 everyone felt relieved. 
 
 * I will walk a little way with you,' volun- 
 teered Mr. Trosdale while the farewells were 
 being spoken. ' Don't run away yet, Mr. 
 Serle, please — I want to speak to you. I 
 will be back directly.' And so he got across 
 the hall and out into the night in company 
 with Mr. Ashford, leaving Selwyn in as un- 
 comfortable a predicament as a young fellow 
 could well find himself. 
 
 VOL. I. 18
 
 274 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 He remained, uncertain what to do ; for 
 Miss Trosdale, turning her back on the table» 
 had crossed over to the fire, where she stood 
 with hands loosely clasped before her, almost 
 moaning out the words, ' That man, that 
 man !' 
 
 ' Shall I ?' Selwyn began ; but she did not 
 take the slightest notice of his question or 
 his presence — had, Indeed, forgotten he was 
 in existence. 
 
 * Shall I go and kick him ?' was what he 
 meant to say ; for the Idea crossed his mind 
 that Mr. Ashford could not have put such a 
 space between himself and St. Paul's Square 
 as to render that feat immediately imipossible. 
 
 A second look at Miss Trosdale's motion- 
 less figure, the conviction that she had passed 
 Into a land of thought where his voice was 
 able to wake no echo, prevented the utter- 
 ance of what filled his heart. There was no 
 passion in her attitude, unless, Indeed, It 
 might be the passion of despair. As In a 
 mirror, he, an outsider, beheld a similitude of 
 trouble in which he had no part, and he re- 
 mained mute, like one who, having unwittingly 
 read a portion of some letter not meant for
 
 MR. ASHFORD. 275 
 
 his eye, tries at one and the same time to 
 conceal his knowledge and forget It. 
 
 How long their dual silence lasted Selwyn 
 never afterwards could tell. It seemed to 
 him to have endured throuo^h hours. He 
 was lost in a maze of conjecture concerning 
 his chiefs daughter and Mr. Ashford, when 
 Miss Trosdale, turning suddenly towards 
 him, broke across his reverie by asking : 
 
 ' Did you speak ?' 
 
 He had not spoken then. Afterwards he 
 wondered whether his sentence, begun so 
 long before, could have been all that time 
 travelling to her ear. It was a strange 
 notion, yet when days and weeks had elapsed 
 he found the idea still recurring. 
 
 * I did not speak,' he answered. * I was 
 wondering,' he went on, with a shy awkward- 
 ness which vexed and surprised him, ' whether 
 Mr. Trosdale would be long.' 
 
 * There is no telling. You need not wait 
 for him, you know.* 
 
 ' He asked me to do so/ Selwyn dissented^ 
 deciding that he knew at last why he did not 
 like Miss Trosdale, and never felt quite com- 
 fortable with her. 
 
 18—2
 
 276 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 ' Oh ! very well,' answered Madge resign- 
 edly ; * won't you sit down ?' 
 
 A less encouraging invitation, more abso- 
 lute indifference as to whether he accepted it 
 or not, could scarcely be conceived. Selwyn 
 felt the chill of her forced courtesy, all the 
 awkwardness of his own position; nevertheless 
 he sat down. To do so seemed the lesser 
 evil. 
 
 Madge dropped into a deep armchair, and 
 taking up some work, began to talk on 
 indifferent subjects. She was easy enough ; 
 not so Selwyn. Though they had met many 
 times previously, this was the first occasion 
 when they found themselves embarked on 
 a tcte-ci'tcte of indefinite duration. 
 
 The Square was very still : scarce a sound 
 broke the night silence ; for all stir of life 
 about them they might have been two ship- 
 wrecked mariners on an uninhabited island, 
 yet Miss Trosdale took the situation quite 
 as a matter of course. 
 
 Selwyn, on the contrary, felt strangely 
 shy. Her very self-possession upset him. 
 She made him feel a nobody — a boy, to 
 whom she must be coldly civil, but who was
 
 MR. ASHFORD. 277 
 
 in her way for all that. He wondered what 
 she would be doing if he was not there. 
 Scarcely crocheting so industriously ; cer- 
 tainly not crocheting, he decided. Thus, 
 even while answering her indifferent ques- 
 tions and remarks, he again fell to wondering 
 what her daily life was. 
 
 She had told Mr. Ashford she still went 
 on teaching. Could this thing really be ^ 
 and if it were, how did it happen } Why 
 should she teach ? what secret underlay Mr. 
 Trosdale s discontent, and caused the incon- 
 gruity of his life. 
 
 Why should the daughter of a man in his 
 position teach ? What did she teach ? She 
 did not look like a person who taught any- 
 thing: she more resembled a woman engaged 
 in a great mission, abstracted from the com- 
 mon concerns of everyday existence. There 
 was something very strange about her — 
 stranger about her even than about Mr. 
 Trosdale. 
 
 Just as he had arrived at this conclusion, 
 the clock on the mantelpiece chimed three- 
 quarters past ten. 
 
 Madge glanced up.
 
 278 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL, 
 
 * Do you know, Mr. Serle,' she said, ' I 
 think it is hardly worth your while to wait 
 any longer for my father. When he gets 
 with J\lr. Ashford there is no counting upon 
 him. Very likely he has quite forgotten you 
 are here, and may not return for hours. If 
 he should come back soon, I will explain 
 to him why you went. Good-night !' 
 
 Selwyn, not waiting to be asked to go 
 twice, was already on his feet. 
 . * I hope it is fine, and that you may not 
 have a wet walk,' went on Madge. 
 
 There was some cordiality in her tone, but 
 Selwyn felt very surely it was a cordiality 
 induced only by the prospect of getting rid 
 of him. 
 
 * I don't like her. I do not like her !' he 
 thought, and he walked down the steps and 
 into the Square very hot and angry, though 
 Miss Trosdale came with him to the hall 
 door and held it open till he had frigidly 
 taken off his hat and was striding away 
 through the darkness towards Everton.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 IN SELWVN S LODGINGS. 
 
 UITE decided that he did not like, 
 could never like, Miss Trosdale, 
 Selwyn Serle hurried on through 
 the night with that haste which the feeling 
 of having been turned morally out into the 
 cold usually inspires. 
 
 As he walked his irritation somewhat sub- 
 sided, but he fully resolved to be * engaged ' 
 next time Mr. Trosdale asked him to his 
 house, and let that gentleman's daughter see 
 he was by no means anxious to thrust him- 
 self where he seemed not to be wanted. 
 
 Hitherto Selwyn had been accustomed to 
 hearty welcomes and cordial smiles, and why, 
 he very naturally — if irritably — asked himself, 
 should he trouble his head about the whims of
 
 28o THE GOVERNMENT OFFICFAL, 
 
 a young lady whose welcome was not hearty, 
 or smile cordial ? There were plenty of 
 other people in the world beside Miss Tros- 
 dale. St. Paul's Square did not exhaust the 
 habitable and tenanted places on earth. He 
 had felt very chivalrous for Miss Trosdale 
 that evening, and then she thrust him back, 
 saying he need not w^ait, as if it was so great a 
 pleasure to wait ; as if he were a messenger ; 
 as If — as If 
 
 Selwyn was not a morbid young man, 
 finding offence where no offence had been 
 intended ; but he owned his full complement 
 of sense, and he could not avoid seeing that 
 while Mr. Trosdale liked him to come to 
 St. Paul's Square, Miss Trosdale would 
 have liked him to stay away. 
 
 Not in the least a flattering conclusion at 
 which to arrive ; but there was no help for It. 
 He felt forced to admit the fact that Miss 
 Trosdale preferred his absence to his pre- 
 sence, and it annoyed him very much ; more, 
 it hurt him, for he would have liked to like 
 her, and he could riot but see she did not like 
 him. 
 
 ' It Is impossible to care for a person who
 
 I.V SELWYN'S LODGINGS. 
 
 shows plainly that she thinks you objection- 
 able rather than otherwise.' 
 
 And, spurred on by this disagreeable re- 
 flection, Selwyn again quickened his pace 
 and hurried through Dale Street as if a iiend 
 were after him. 
 
 He would probably have pursued his wild 
 career up London Road at the same mad 
 rate, had he not been unexpectedly stopped 
 by a person coming along William Brown 
 Street, who exclaimed : 
 
 ' Why, is that you, Serle ?' 
 
 It was Mr. Trosdale, and his appearance 
 and his question pulled Selwyn up instantly. 
 
 * Why did you not wait for me ?' asked the 
 Surveyor. ' I have been detained a little 
 longer than I expected, but I was hastening 
 home, making sure I should find you in 
 St. Paul's Square ; I wanted to speak to you 
 particularly.' 
 
 * It grew late, and Miss Trosdale seemed 
 to think the time of your return un- 
 certain, so I came away ; but I will walk 
 part of the way back with you, if you will 
 allow me,' volunteered Selwyn, a little 
 ashamed of the wild haste with which
 
 282 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 he had been shaking the dust of Mr. Tros- 
 dale's abode off his feet. After all, that 
 gentleman was not answerable for a young 
 girl's whims. 
 
 ' No ; let me walk with you,' answered 
 Mr. Trosdale. ' I have a fancy for walking 
 to-night. I should like nothing better than 
 to walk till morninof. You live in Queen's 
 Road, don't you '^. We can talk as we go.' 
 
 And so saying, he slipped his hand through 
 Selvvyn's arm ; and in this fashion the 
 strangely-matched pair proceeded towards 
 Everton. 
 
 ' Ashford is a curious fellow, isn't he ?' 
 began Mr. Trosdale, plunging into his sub- 
 ject at once. 
 
 Selwyn would have liked to answer that 
 he thought Mr. Ashford a hateful fellow, a 
 detestable fellow, a fellow so utterly beyond 
 the pale of all humanity, that he hoped he 
 should never see him again, or hear him 
 speak, or be afflicted by the sound of his 
 name ; but in the present imperfect state of 
 society we can rarely say what we think, and 
 young Mr. Serle, like many another indi- 
 vidual, had now and then to choke back
 
 IN SEL WYN'S LODGINGS. 283 
 
 utterances more excellent in his opinion than 
 any that ever passed his lips. 
 
 * He does seem a little curious/ he said, 
 with diplomatic caution. 
 
 * But true,' urged Mr. Trosdale eagerly ; 
 * true as steel. He has been a staunch friend 
 to me : no man ever was a stauncher friend to 
 man !' 
 
 Though he had doubts as to whether Mr. 
 Ashford could be a friend to anyone, Selwyn 
 did not say so ; and the Surveyor, taking 
 silence for assent, proceeded : 
 
 * Through doubt, and discouragement, and 
 painful rebuff, and the sneers of ignorance ; 
 through bad report — for, till one is successful, 
 there is little good reported of one — Mr. 
 Ashford has stood by me. But for his 
 sympathy, I must have fainted by the way ; 
 and yet, to look at him, who would think 
 he possessed those grand qualities — faith 
 and patience.' 
 
 Selwyn, at all events, would not ; but again 
 he found himself tongue-tied as regarded his 
 real sentiments, and compelled to murmur : 
 
 'It is not always safe to judge from 
 appearances.'
 
 284 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 'Stick to that,' said Mr. Trosdale ap- 
 provingly, ' and you will do. Never let 
 yourself be led away by impulse ; that is 
 the rock women split on. They are led by 
 nothing but impulse. My daughter is a 
 striking example of this. She is the best 
 creature in the world so long as she lets her 
 reason and natural amiability have fair play ; 
 but the most prejudiced, the most foolish, the 
 most obstinate being in the world when once 
 she abandons herself to the promptings of 
 what she calls feeling. Now she cannot 
 endure Mr. Ashford. It is \\ith s^reat diffi- 
 culty I am able to induce her to be ordinarily 
 courteous to him. Perhaps you noticed some 
 tendency of the sort this evening.' 
 
 Here was a dilemma for SeUvyn ; but he 
 got out of it cleverly enough by saying : 
 
 * I did remark that Miss Trosdale's manner 
 was a little distant towards Mr. Ashford.' 
 
 ' Do you know the reason ?' 
 
 Selwyn certainly did not, and said so. 
 
 * She is jealous,' Mr. Trosdale explained. 
 (' Of what — of whom, in Heaven's name T 
 thought Selwyn.) ' That is Madge's great 
 fault, poor child ! She inherits it from her
 
 IN SEL IVYNS L ODGINGS. 2S5 
 
 mother. Very few people suspect the falling ; 
 but as I hope to see a great deal of you, it is 
 better you should know it. Madge is aware 
 I like Mr. Ashford, therefore she dislikes 
 him. This is her invariable practice. The 
 moment I express a partiality for anyone, 
 that moment she conceives an antipathy 
 afjainst him.' 
 
 Selwyn heard this statement with mixed 
 feelings. He was not particularly gratified at 
 being included in any condemnation with 
 Mr. Ashford, yet he could not but acknow- 
 ledge a certain satisfaction in thus learning 
 that Miss Trosdale's evident disfavour to- 
 wards himself had no deeper root than 
 antaofonism to her fathers favour. It was 
 not to Selwyn Serle she objected ; only to 
 the young man for whom Mr. Trosdale had 
 conceived a liking. 
 
 * I can conquer that antipathy,' he decided, 
 with the arrogance of youth. ' I will make 
 her think well of me yet.' 
 
 It was pleasant to know this girl, of whom 
 he had hitherto stood somewhat in awe, did 
 not rise superior to the weaknesses of her 
 sex. To find that a young lady, with whom
 
 286 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 he is certain to be thrown often in contact, is, 
 after all, only very human, cannot fail to prove 
 agreeable to a young man. 
 
 In a moment Selwyn's rapid imagination 
 had decided on the manner he would assume, 
 and the course of action he would adopts 
 towards Miss Trosdale. 
 
 He did not mean to let her see he knew 
 the secret of her coldness, but she should be 
 convinced by delicate trifles that the last thing 
 in the world he desired was to step betweea 
 her father and herself — that, while grateful 
 for Mr. Trosdale's kindness, he would rather 
 do without kindness for ever than usurp the 
 smallest portion of what belonged to her by 
 right. He became so absorbed in the con- 
 sideration of all the things he would say and 
 all the things he would do to assure Miss 
 Trosdale that one person, at least, in the 
 world was loyal, that he did not see they 
 were out of London Road, or feel the rain which 
 began to fall smartly, or hear Mr. Trosdale, 
 who, having once started on the theme of 
 woman's folly and Madge's unreasonableness, 
 and how hard it was for him to have to contend, 
 not merely with misfortune, but against the
 
 IN SEL JVYJV'S LODGINGS. 287 
 
 endless whims and non-appreclatlon of women, 
 was not likely to change it for some time. 
 
 ' But it always has been, and always will 
 be the case, I suppose/ were the words which 
 at length attracted Selwyn's attention just 
 when they reached Brunswick Road. * As a 
 prophet is never without honour save inhisown 
 country and amongst his own people, so every 
 man, from the first inventor down to the last, 
 has been deemed a dullard at home. My 
 daughter has no more appreciation of or 
 belief in my blast furnace, than if I were a 
 child babbling about something of which I 
 knew nothing.' 
 
 ' I beg your pardon,' said Selwyn. 
 
 * Don't you understand Madge has seen 
 me struggling against Fortune's most advei'se 
 winds, and now, when at last the current is 
 setting in my favour, she cannot find a single 
 encouraging or even sympathetic word to say ?* 
 
 The metaphor was very mixed — absurdly 
 so, in fact — but no jumble of the sort sufficed 
 to explain the puzzled look on Selwyn's face, 
 which a friendly gas-lamp brought at that 
 moment into full distinctness. 
 
 ' You seem not quite to comprehend,' ob-
 
 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 served Mr. Trosdale, a little Irritably. 'You 
 remember what Wx. Ashford said about blast 
 furnaces ? It appears not one answers as 
 it ouQ^ht.' 
 
 * I tried to hear as little of your conver- 
 sation as possible,' said Seiwyn, In explana- 
 tion and apology. 
 
 * But, good Heavens ! I meant you to hear 
 every word. I hoped it might save me the 
 trouble of a long statement of troublesome 
 facts. Surely you gathered that I had staked 
 my all on a venture which Is really going 
 to turn out prosperous ?' 
 
 ' I am very glad to hear it,' answered 
 Seiwyn simply ; * but, indeed, I did not listen 
 to what you and l\Ir. Ashford were saying. 
 I felt myself dc trop, and would gladly have 
 left when the conversation commenced.' 
 
 * De tj^op ! Why, I meant to take you 
 into my confidence this very evening. I 
 asked you to come to the Square for that 
 express purpose. I thought, '' I will have 
 no secrets from this young fellow, who seems 
 so intelligent, and has, besides, a taste for 
 mechanics." Surely, by this time we ought 
 to be near those diggings of yours.'
 
 IN SEL WYiVS LODGINGS. 289 
 
 It would not have surprised Selwyn more 
 perhaps to hear an angel talking slang, than 
 it did to listen to such an expression from his 
 chief ; but he was not shocked. Though from 
 an angel the phrase would have sounded 
 familiarly, terribly familiarly condescending, 
 on the part of Mr. Trosdale it seemed only 
 affable. 
 
 * We are quite close,' he said eagerly. 
 * You will come in, I hope. I should feel so 
 much honoured.' 
 
 Mr. Trosdale accepted the invitation with 
 a gracious inclination and one of his rare 
 smiles. His must have been a heart of stone 
 had the young fellow's innocent guilelessness 
 failed to touch some answering chord. 
 
 Many days — many, many — had passed 
 since he met anything so simple, so boyish, 
 and yet, withal, so promising as Selwyn. 
 
 He had but to put out his hand to take the 
 lad for better for worse, for richer for poorer 
 — an awful responsibility ; yet he did not 
 hesitate. He accepted the responsibility, 
 and took him. 
 
 Hesitation, when what he desired hap- 
 pened to be in question, was a feeling which 
 
 VOL. I. 19
 
 290 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 never troubled Mr. Trosdale. If he were 
 absolutely sure of one thing, it was that he 
 never could be wrong. 
 
 As a young man, he had been accounted 
 a very pleasant, if somewhat impetuous and 
 headstrong, fellow, and perhaps the secret of 
 this popularity was that he never was in 
 doubt. The rest of the world might be mis- 
 taken, foolish, sinful — but Martin Trosdale 
 never. 
 
 Like many another, he carried the pecu- 
 liarities of early life, uncorrected and un- 
 softened, into middle age ; and as he grew 
 older still, they hardened, till satisfaction with 
 himself and dissatisfaction with others became 
 bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh. 
 
 It proved an awful union, and the fruit 
 it bore was misery to all with whom he came 
 intimately in contact. 
 
 Where one differently constituted might 
 have shrunk from dragging a young life, 
 with possibilities of happiness, with the 
 future all to come out of which to make a 
 good or bad story for the volume that must 
 be bound in the great eternity, he beckoned 
 on, quite confident of his road, and said
 
 IN SEL WYN'S LODGINGS. 291 
 
 * Come with me ' as light-heartedly as though 
 certain he was leading through the plains of 
 temporal prosperity to realms of eternal 
 bliss. 
 
 It was Impossible to accuse him of acting 
 with malice prepense, for he never thought of 
 any human being but himself. 
 
 Broken lives, broken hearts, broken for- 
 tunes, troubled his mind not one bit. To him 
 they seemed all but as the battered toys with 
 which a child amuses his foolishness ; when 
 they had served his purpose they might be 
 cast aside without a regret. 
 
 Selwyn was his latest toy, a toy which 
 possessed one great advantage over many 
 toys, that it was certainly not devoid of in- 
 telligence. 
 
 Fancy the charm to a girl of a doll which, 
 if a trifle silent, could hear and sympathize. 
 
 Selwyn could hear and sympathize ; further, 
 his power of listening was marvellous — un- 
 precedented. Not even that paragon, Mr. 
 Ashford, had ever received Mr. Trosdale's 
 words of wisdom in such silence and with 
 such absorbed attention. 
 
 By this time they had, in a blinding rain, 
 
 19 — 2
 
 292 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 reached Queen's Road, where Selwyn, put- 
 ting his key in the lock of No. 299, opened 
 the door, and standing aside to let his chief 
 pass, said with a certain pleasant shyness : 
 
 'Welcome to my present home, Mr. Tros- 
 dale. Some day I may be able to welcome 
 you to a better.' 
 
 * Thank you,' said Mr. Trosdale gravely ; 
 but he said no more, for the first ghost of an 
 idea had struck him, with which much speech 
 might have interfered. 
 
 The gas was turned low in the sitting- 
 room, but a touch made a pleasant glow of 
 light, and showed Selwyn's neglected tea 
 equipage placed ready for his return, and the 
 dying embers of a fire which was almost out, 
 while a kettle, which had long ceased simmer- 
 ing, stood on the hob. 
 
 The whole was a picture of the young 
 man's lonely existence ; it was life in lodgings 
 presented in a concrete form — not uncomfort- 
 able lodgings by any means, but solitary. 
 
 Selwyn threw some bavins on the fire, 
 which soon catching, sent trains of sparks 
 cheerfully up the chimney ; on the top of the 
 wood he placed the kettle ; then from the
 
 IN SEL WYNS LODGINGS. 293 
 
 sideboard he produced glasses, and what Mr. 
 Kerry comprehensively called ' the materials ;' 
 and when his arrangements were complete, 
 said : 
 
 ' I have no wine, Mr. Trosdale ; but per- 
 haps you will take a little hot whisky and 
 water after your walk ?' 
 
 * Thank you,' replied the Surveyor. ' I 
 have no doubt your whisky is good.' 
 
 ' Kerry admits that.' 
 
 ' Then it must be, for there is no better 
 judge of strong liquor in Liverpool.' 
 
 It occurred to Selwyn that there were 
 many good judges of strong liquors in the 
 Tax-Office, but he did not say so. He had 
 been once too ready of speech in the matter 
 of Mr. Cramsey, and he was daily learning 
 the sweetness and beauty of reticence. 
 
 ' You have to wait on yourself here, I see,' 
 remarked Mr. Trosdale, as Selwyn returned 
 from the sideboard with spoons. 
 
 * Mrs. Wills gives me very fair attend- 
 ance,' answered Selwyn ; ' but the family go 
 to bed early. They are obliged to do so, as 
 it is needful for them to turn out at unearthly 
 hours in the morning.' 
 
 VOL. 1. 19 — 3
 
 294 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 * Oh !' said Mr. Trosdale, and he sipped 
 his punch meditatively. 
 
 Selwyn did not speak for a few seconds ; 
 he looked at the fire now burning brightly, 
 at his chief, who swallowed his whisky and 
 water as if he were solving a problem, at the 
 cheerful blaze again, and then he took heart 
 and began : 
 
 * Won't you tell me now a little about that 
 undertaking which is turning out so well ?' 
 
 Mr. Trosdale smiled. It was a cold smile, 
 yet it changed the whole expression of his 
 face, just as a gleam of sunshine, frosty and 
 transient though it may be, lights up the 
 gloom of some winter day. 
 
 * I fear I must first explain the nature of 
 my invention.' 
 
 'Invention!' repeated Selwyn, as though 
 an invention were a rare and superior 
 creation. 
 
 His lot had not lain among inventors. 
 He had never scanned the patent lists, and 
 learned they are plentiful as blackberries in 
 October. 
 
 * For more than half my life/ proceeded 
 Mr. Trosdale, ' I have spent my time, my
 
 IN SEL WYJSrS LODGINGS. 295 
 
 strength, and my substance, for the benefit of 
 my fellow-men ; I have worked on under 
 every disadvantage, in the teeth of all the 
 adverse winds that blow ; I have been con- 
 sidered a visionary enthusiast ; I have been 
 assailed with reproaches ; in my own house- 
 hold the finest products of my brain have 
 been at best looked upon as the dreams of a 
 lunatic ; I have been blamed for using the 
 talents vouchsafed to me, instead of burying 
 them in a napkin ; while others were thinking 
 of nothing save themselves and their own 
 pleasure, I have sought to fathom the mys- 
 teries of Nature, and wrest her secrets from 
 Science ; I have seen my ideas stolen, my 
 plans frustrated, the offspring of my brain 
 coolly appropriated ; yet I never lost courage 
 or heart ; and now — now I am going to reap 
 my reward : I have perfected the blast fur- 
 nace of the century — the blast furnace des- 
 tined to supersede all others — the blast 
 furnace which must make the fortunes of all 
 connected with it.' 
 
 Selwyn had held his breath while Mr. 
 Trosdale impetuously delivered himself of 
 this peroration, and at its finish he almost
 
 296 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 gasped at the glorious future his chief indi- 
 cated. 
 
 To many, a blast furnace would have 
 represented nothing. It is not given to 
 everyone to understand the length and 
 breadth, the height and depth of the beauty 
 comprised in those two words ; but Selwyn 
 had sat at the feet of an enthusiast in such 
 matters. 
 
 He had listened for friendship's sake to 
 talk about meltings and pigs, and mouldings 
 and castings, from Mr. Adams' nephew ; just 
 as he had listened for friendship and sym- 
 pathy's sake to the heir of Sea Court, when 
 he discoursed at length about that famous 
 run with the Cotswold Foxhounds, or that 
 never-to-be-forgotten spin after the Narrow 
 Moor Harriers. 
 
 Thus it came to pass that he at least knew 
 something of the nature of a blast furnace, 
 and understood it served a purpose not to be 
 comprehended by the multitude. Formerly 
 he had thought, if he thought about the 
 matter at all, that one blast furnace was the 
 twin brother of its fellow, but now he saw he 
 must have been wrong, and felt grateful to 
 his instructor.
 
 IN SEL ll^NS LODGINGS. 297 
 
 There was no need for him to express his 
 pleasure at the confidence INIr. Trosdale had 
 extended. It shone in every hne of his face, 
 in his sparkling eyes, his half-open mouth, 
 his interested expression, his uplifted head. 
 
 ' I hope with all my heart,' he said, ' the 
 invention may prove successful beyond your 
 greatest expectations.' 
 
 Mr. Trosdale's punch was exactly to his 
 liking. The whisky was indeed ' sans 
 peur et sans reproche,' the water piping hot, 
 the room most comfortable. He would have 
 liked to stay there all night. 
 
 * You are a thoroughly good young fellow/ 
 he answered. ' Strange that I should have 
 thought it a hard fate which sent you to me. 
 How little we know, and how impossible it 
 is to tell ! That was quite a misunderstand- 
 ing on my part, Mr. Serle,' he went on with 
 the air of a man pleading guilty to some 
 heinous sin. ' I felt wronged when I found 
 Dandison had palmed another beginner off 
 on me. It is a thing he is always doing ; 
 but I am thankful now he did send you. If 
 I could be grateful to Dandison I should feel 
 so now.'
 
 298 THE GOVERNMENT OFEICIAL. 
 
 ' I feel grateful to him,' answered Selwyn. 
 I am very glad he sent me to Liverpool and 
 to you, ve7y glad.' 
 
 He did not know, this lad, what was in store 
 for him when he spoke ; yet if he had it is 
 most likely he would still have repeated * I 
 am very glad.' 
 
 His was one of those natures we are some- 
 what apt to despise, which can pass through 
 wrong and sorrow and come forth, not em- 
 bittered, but strengthened. As bees are able 
 to extract honey from even poisonous flowers, 
 so Selwyn Serle found good nourishment 
 while browsing upon the unlikely pastures of 
 which Mr. Trosdale made him free. 
 
 * I meant to tell you all this in the Square, 
 had we been alone this evening,' said Mr. 
 Trosdale, meditatively stirring his punch 
 while he reverted to the only theme which 
 had power to attract and retain him. ' I in^ 
 tended to show you the schemes of which 
 richer men have robbed me, the ideas I 
 lacked means and influence to force on the 
 public, that have since resulted in fortunes 
 and titles to persons absolutely destitute of 
 brains ; but my daughter's return prevented
 
 IN SEL IVYN'S LODGINGS. 299 
 
 me. Now, when I can help It, I never speak 
 before Madge of the things which are almost 
 
 as dear to me as she is ' 
 
 ' Miss Trosdale cannot know,' interposed 
 Selwyn, forgetful of all personal wrongs, and 
 only anxious to begin that work of setting the 
 relations between father and child right which 
 he had chivalrously set himself ; ' if she under- 
 stood ' 
 
 * Ah! z/" she understood/ repeated the Sur- 
 veyor ; * but don't you see, my young friend, 
 that Is about equivalent to saying, " if the 
 deaf could hear and the lame could walk " ? 
 So far as her father's plans and aspirations 
 are concerned my poor girl is mentally blind, 
 but In that she is only like the rest of her sex. 
 Show a woman a fine house, a splendid 
 equipage, a costly dress, and she appreciates 
 and envies ; but speak to her of any great 
 work, any enormous design, and her interest 
 flags at once. It is only when a woman's 
 love Is so great as to raise her above the 
 weakness of her sex that she ever can reconcile 
 herself to become foster-mother to the brain- 
 child of father, husband, or brother ; but to 
 love in such a way a woman must In every
 
 300 THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 
 
 sense be great ;' and Mr. Trosdale shook 
 his head so ominously poor Selwyn, though 
 wishful to act loyally by Miss Tros- 
 dale, felt discretion to be the better part of 
 valour, and not for the first time that evening 
 held his tongue, though it was pain and 
 sorrow for him to do so. The Surveyor 
 finished his punch in absolute silence. It 
 was only when he rose to go that his feelings 
 found vent : * Never marry, Serle,' he said, 
 looking about for his coat. ' Never marry if 
 you want to do any good in the world. I 
 
 married, and ' the pause which followed 
 
 was more eloquent than a torrent of words. 
 * No, I won't have you come with me — not 
 even as far as St. George's Hall — not one step. 
 I am in the mood for being alone. Good- 
 night, God bless you. Good-night.' 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 BILLING & sorts, PRINTERS, GUILDFORO. 
 
 C, C. &* Co.