“Go to the devil,” said the junior partner.

“Any more suggestions I can give you, you are heartily welcome to,” said Mr. Swann, going back to his seat.  “All my vast experience is at your service, and the best and sweetest and prettiest girls in Sunwich regard me as a sort of second father.”

“What’s a second father?” inquired Jim, looking up—­“a grandfather?”

“Go your own way,” said the other; “I wash my hands of you.  You’re not in earnest, or you’d clutch at any straw.  But let me give you one word of advice.  Be careful how you get hold of the old lady; let her understand from the commencement that it isn’t her.”

Mr. Hardy went on with his work.  There was a pile of it in front of him and an accumulation in his drawers.  For some time he wrote assiduously, but work was dry after the subject they had been discussing.  He looked over at his partner and, seeing that that gentleman was gravely busy, reopened the matter with a jeer.

“Old maids always know most about rearing children,” he remarked; “so I suppose old bachelors, looking down on life from the top shelf, think they know most about marriage.”

“I wash my hands of you,” repeated the senior, placidly.  “I am not to be taunted into rendering first aid to the wounded.”

The conscience-stricken junior lost his presence of mind.  “Who’s trying to taunt you?” he demanded, hotly.  “Why, you’d do more harm than good.”

“Put a bandage round the head instead of the heart, I expect,” assented the chuckling Swann.  “Top shelf, I think you said; well, I climbed there for safety.”

“You must have been much run after,” said his partner.

“I was,” said the other.  “I suppose that’s why it is I am always so interested in these affairs.  I have helped to marry so many people in this place, that I’m almost afraid to stir out after dark.”

Hardy’s reply was interrupted by the entrance of Mr. Edward Silk, a young man of forlorn aspect, who combined in his person the offices of messenger, cleaner, and office-boy to the firm.  He brought in some letters, and placing them on Mr. Swann’s desk retired.

“There’s another,” said the latter, as the door closed.  “His complaint is Amelia Kybird, and he’s got it badly.  She’s big enough to eat him, but I believe that they are engaged.  Perseverance has done it in his case.  He used to go about like a blighted flower—­”

“I am rather busy,” his partner reminded him.

Mr. Swann sighed and resumed his own labours.  For some time both men wrote in silence.  Then the elder suddenly put his pen down and hit his desk a noisy thump with his fist.

“I’ve got it,” he said, briskly; “apologize humbly for all your candour, and I will give you a piece of information which shall brighten your dull eyes, raise the corners of your drooping mouth, and renew once more the pink and cream in your youthful cheeks.”