Walk and thence slowly made our way to the quiet court behind the
church, where poor old Oliver Goldsmith lies, as he would surely have
wished to lie, in the midst of all that had been dear to him in his
chequered life. I need not record the matter of our conversation. To
Thorndyke's proposals I had no objections to offer but my own
unworthiness and his excessive liberality. A few minutes saw our
covenants fully agreed upon, and when Thorndyke had noted the points on
a slip of paper, signed and dated it and handed it to me, the business
was at an end.

"There," my colleague said with a smile as he put away his pocket-book,
"if people would only settle their affairs in that way, a good part of
the occupation of lawyers would be gone. Brevity is the soul of wit; and
the fear of simplicity is the beginning of litigation."

"And now," I said, "I propose that we go and feed. I will invite you to
lunch to celebrate our contract."

"My learned junior is premature," he replied. "I had already arranged a
little festivity--or rather had modified one that was already arranged.
You remember Mr. Marchmont, the solicitor?"

"Yes."

"He called this morning to ask me to lunch with him and a new client at
the 'Cheshire Cheese.' I accepted and notified him that I should bring
you."

"Why the 'Cheshire Cheese'?" I asked.