"Yes, poor thing! for her story is a sad one. If the same grievous
wrong were worked upon some of us, perhaps we might take to dancing for
the benefit of the public. Talking of the public, Arthur," continued
Hamish, turning to his brother, "what became of you at dinner-time? The
mother was for setting the town-crier to work."

"I could not get home to-day. We have had double work to do, as Jenkins
is away."

Hamish tilted himself on to the edge of Mr. Jenkins's desk, and took up
the letter, apparently in absence of mind, which Mr. Galloway had left
there, ready for the post. "Mr. Robert Galloway, Sea View Terrace,
Ventnor, Isle of Wight," he read aloud. "That must be Mr. Galloway's
cousin," he remarked: "the one who has run through so much money."

"Of course it is," answered Roland Yorke. "Galloway pretty near keeps
him: I know there's a twenty-pound bank-note going to him in that
letter. Catch me doing it if I were Galloway."

"I wish it was going into my pocket instead," said Hamish, balancing
the letter on his fingers, as if wishing to test its weight.

"I wish the clouds would drop sovereigns! But they don't," said Roland
Yorke.

Hamish put the letter back from whence he had taken it, and jumped off
the desk. "I must be walking," said he. "Stopping here will not do my
work. If we--"