A letter to Mr.Pendril.I want him here immediately." "Business, I suppose ?" "Yes, my dear--business." He went out, and shut himself into the little front room, close to the hall door, which was called his study.

By nature and habit the most procrastinating of letter-writers, he now inconsistently opened his desk and took up the pen without a moment's delay.

His letter was long enough to occupy three pages of note-paper; it was written with a readiness of expression and a rapidity of hand which seldom characterized his proceedings when engaged over his ordinary correspondence.

He wrote the address as follows: "Immediate--William Pendril, Esq., Serle Street, Lincoln's Inn, London"-- then pushed the letter away from him, and sat at the table, drawing lines on the blotting-paper with his pen, lost in thought.

"No," he said to himself; "I can do nothing more till Pendril comes." He rose; his face brightened as he put the stamp on the envelope.