Mr Hugh Stanbury had been at college the most intimate friend of
Louis Trevelyan, and at Oxford had been, in spite of Trevelyan's
successes, a bigger man than his friend. Stanbury had not taken
so high a degree as Trevelyan, indeed had not gone out in honours
at all. He had done little for the credit of his college, and had
never put himself in the way of wrapping himself up for life in
the scanty lambswool of a fellowship. But he had won for himself
reputation as a clever speaker, as a man who had learned much that
college tutors do not profess to teach, as a hard-headed, ready-witted
fellow, who, having the world as an oyster before him, which it
was necessary that he should open, would certainly find either a
knife or a sword with which to open it.

Immediately on leaving college he had come to town, and had entered
himself at Lincoln's Inn. Now, at the time of our story, he was a
barrister of four years' standing, but had never yet made a guinea.
He had never made a guinea by his work as a barrister, and was
beginning to doubt of himself whether he ever would do so. Not, as
he knew well, that guineas are generally made with ease by barristers
of four years' standing, but because, as he said to his friends, he
did not see his way to the knack of it. He did not know an attorney
in the world, and could not conceive how any attorney should ever
be induced to apply to him for legal aid. He had done his work
of learning his trade about as well as other young men, but had
had no means of distinguishing himself within his reach. He went
the Western Circuit because his aunt, old Miss Stanbury, lived at
Exeter, but, as he declared of himself, had he had another aunt living
at York, he would have had nothing whatsoever to guide him in his
choice. He sat idle in the courts, and hated himself for so sitting.
So it had been with him for two years without any consolation or