Mr. Yorke

“ How are you getting on, Butterby? Take a stool if you like, Butterby."
"Can't stop," said Butterby. "Just meant to give a nod round and go out again. Not come in on business today. You look spruce, Mr. Yorke."
"I've got on my Sunday suit," answered Roland--who in point of fact was uncommonly well got-up, and had a rosebud in his button-hole. "Carrick's tailor has not a bad cut. You have heard of red-letter days, old Butterby: this is one for me. One should not put on one's every-day coat on such occasions: they don't come too often."
"Got a fortune bequeathed?" enquired Mr. Butterby. ”

“ Butterby. We place every confidence in our clerks; I repeat it emphatically. Mr. Brown and Mr. Jenner have been with me for some years now; Mr. Hurst and Mr. Yorke are gentlemen."
"I know who they two are; knew them long before you did, sir; and their fathers too. Dr. Yorke, the late prebendary, put some business into my hands once. But now, just leave this matter with me, Mr. Bede Greatorex. ”

“ One has to make a beginning at everything."
"Are you a good hand at accounts?" enquired Mr. Yorke, possibly in the vague notion that Roland's talents might be turned to something more profitable than the copying of folios.
"I ought to be," said Roland. "If the counting up, over and over and over again, of those frying-pans I carried to Port Natal, could have made a man an accountant, it must have made one of me. I used to be at it morning and evening. You see, I thought they were going to sell for about eight-and-twenty shillings apiece, out there: no wonder I often reckoned them up." ”

“ A thoughtless young lady, standing near, exclaimed hastily to her companion: "Fanny, how much that young officer resembles Mr. Yorke." The remark being overheard by both parties, caused slight embarrassment, accompanied by a boyish blush from Lieutenant Trevelyan. Though an intimacy was formed between those young gentlemen, no allusion was made to the circumstance until many years afterwards, when Mr. Yorke was in England transacting some important political business, he was laughingly reminded of the affair by a gentleman in the prime of manhood—no longer a blushing young officer. ”

“ But it was impossible to resist Roland's pleading, in all its simple-hearted energy. And, to give Mr. Butterby his due, he would have been glad to do his best to find Arthur Channing.
"I can't stay in London myself," said he; "I've been here a week now on private business, and must go down to Helstonleigh tomorrow; but I'll put it special into Detective Jelf's hands. He's as 'cute an officer, young Mr. Yorke, as here and there one, and of more use in London than me." ”

“ Roland's championship was hot.
"You know you always do take the wrong people, Butterby!"
"Now, young Mr. Yorke, just you concern yourself with your own business, and leave other folk's alone," was the detective's answering reprimand. "I don't see what call you have to be in this here room at all."
In all the phases of the affair, with its attendant conjectures and suspicions, from the first moment that she saw John Ollivera lying dead in her house, the possibility of Alletha's being cognisant of its cause, much less connected with it, had never once entered the head of Mrs. Jones. ”

“ Bede Greatorex. It's all in the day's work. If there is really nothing, it won't hurt him; if there is, I may be able to follow it up. Perhaps it's one of the two gentlemen?"
"If it be any one of the four, Mr. Hurst."
The detective so far forgot his good manners as to break into a low whistle.
"Mr. Hurst! or Mr. Yorke, do you mean?" he cried, in his surprise.
"Not Mr. Yorke, certainly. Why should you think of him?"
"Oh, for nothing," carelessly answered Butterby. "Hurst seems an upright young man, sir." ”

“ Roland Yorke--you'd look rather foolish if I walked into Mr. Greatorex's office tomorrow morning, and told him of that past mistake."
"I don't much care whether you do or don't," said candid Roland. "As good let it come out as not, for somebody or other is always casting it in my teeth. Hurst does; my brother Gerald does--I've come now straight from hearing it. I thought I should have lived that down at Port Natal; but it seems I didn't."
"You'll not live it down by impudence," said Mr. Butterby. ”

“ Josiah Hurst and Roland Yorke were at their desk, writing side by side. Jenner was at his, similarly occupied; Mr. Brown was holding a conversation in an undertone with some stranger, who had entered with him as he came in from an errand: a man of respectable, staid appearance. Something in the cut of his clothes spoke of the provinces; and Roland Yorke, who never failed to look after other people's affairs, however pressing his own might be, decided that the stranger was a countryman, come up to see the sights of London. ”

“ Roland Yorke bustled in; a dark young man of twenty-one, with large but fine features, and a countenance expressive of indecision.
“Come, Mr. Yorke, you promised to be here early to-day. You know that deed is being waited for.”
“So I am early, sir,” returned Roland.
“Early! for you perhaps,” grunted Mr. Galloway. “Get to it at once.”
Roland Yorke unlocked a drawer, collected sundry parchments together, and sat down to his desk. He and Arthur had their places side by side. Mr. Galloway stood at a table, and began sorting some papers that were upon it. ”

“ When that precious cousin of mine, Bill Yorke, lent you his surplice."
"Yes, yes," said Mr. Ollivera, hastily; "I had forgotten the name. And so that is Arthur Channing's sister!"
"She is governess to that provoking little wretch, Jane Greatorex," said polite Roland, forgetting in his turn that he was speaking of his listener's cousin, "and she ought to be a queen. She ought, Mr. Ollivera, and you would say so if you knew her. She looks one, does she not? She's as like Arthur as two pins, and he's fit for the noblest king in the world." ”

“ Bede Greatorex spoke a few words to the baronet, touching the matter in hand, and turned back to his desk, leaving Frank to escort the old gentleman out. Bede, about to cross the cheque, hesitated.
"Did Mr. Frank say a crossed cheque?" he asked, looking up.
"No, sir; he said simply a cheque," said Jenner, finding nobody else answered.
"Yes," broke out Roland, "it's fine to be that branch of the family. Getting their cheques for forty-four pounds! I wish I could get one for forty-four shillings."
"Have the goodness to attend to your own business, Mr. Yorke." ”

“ Roland had not another word to answer. He was pulling his whiskers in much gloom when Miss Rye was heard to enter. Mrs. Jones began to roll her work together, preparatory to retiring for the night.
"Look here, Mrs. Jones. I'm uncommon fond of children--you should see how I love that sweet Nelly Channing--I'd not mind if I had a score about the place; but what becomes of the little monkeys when there's no bread and cheese to feed them on?"
"That's the precise difficulty, Mr. Yorke."
CHAPTER XX. GRAND REVIEWS.
Gerald Yorke's book was out. ”

“ But that Roland Yorke had not seen the parlour at Helstonleigh (which the reader had the satisfaction of once entering with Mr. Butterby) , he would have gone well nigh to think this the same room. The red carpet on the floor, the small book-shelves, the mahogany sideboard with its array of glasses, the horsehair chairs, the red cloth on the centre table, all had been transplanted. When Roland bustled in, he found Mrs. Jones knitting away at lambs' wool socks, as if for her life. ”

“ Roland burst into a glow of delight. “That’s the way to serve him, Mr. Huntley! I hope he’ll get cut by every good man in Helstonleigh.”
CHAPTER XXXIV. — GERALD YORKE MADE INTO A “BLOCK.”
The Rev. Mr. Yorke, in his surplice and hood, stood in his stall in the cathedral. His countenance was stern, absorbed; as that of a man who is not altogether at peace with himself. Let us hope that he was absorbed in the sacred service in which he was taking a part: but we all know, to our cost, that the spirit will wander at these times, and worldly thoughts obtrude themselves. ”

“ I can see that. An awful clog, it is, when a fellow has dropped into mischief once in his life, and repented and atoned for it, that it must be cast in his teeth always; cropping up at any hour, like a dead donkey in the Thames; I might as well have stayed at Port Natal!"
Such was the inward soliloquy of Mr. Roland Yorke as he bent over his writing after that overwhelming question of Hurst's, "Did you take it?" Hurst, really grieved at having hurt his feelings, strove to smooth away what he had said. ”

“ The Chancellor must of necessity be a peer, or cannot sit in the House of Lords. The Coronet was announced to Yorke; but he slighted it as of no consequence to his eldest son, who would, probably, succeed his uncle, Lord Hardwicke, the latter having been long married, and having only two daughters. But Mr. Yorke himself had a second wife, a very beautiful woman, and by her had another son. ”

“ Both their faces blanched to whiteness, they stood gazing at each other, she with strained eyes and drawnback lips, he with a kind of forced stillness on his features, that nevertheless told of inward emotion.
"Oh, my good heaven!" she breathed in her agitation. "Is it you?"
Miss Rye had heard speak of Mr. Brown, the managing clerk in the department of Mr. Bede Greatorex. Jenner had mentioned him: Roland Yorke had commented on him and his wig. But that "Mr. Brown" should be the man now standing before her, she had never suspected; no, not in her wildest dreams. ”

“ In the meantime, the tall dark figure that had pursued Rosamond Arleigh from the grounds of The Oaks and into the carriage had mounted on the box in Tom’s place, and was driving Doctor Danton’s horses like mad—but not in the direction of Yorke Towers.
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CHAPTER VIII.
“MY DARK-EYED WILL!”
When Leonard Yorke reached home after the tragic occurrence at The Oaks, he was met in the hall by Jessie Glyndon. She was very pale, and her eyes bore the traces of recent weeping.
“Oh, Mr. Yorke,” she began, as soon as she saw him, “your mother is very ill! ”

“ On the other side the hearth, bending forward in his chair, staring at Hamish with sad eyes, and pulling at his whiskers in grievous gloom, sat Roland Yorke. Roland had abandoned his home-copying for the past two days, and spent all his spare time with Hamish. Mrs. Jones, snatching a moment to go and visit Mr. Channing for old association's sake, had been very much struck with what she saw in him, and carried home the news that he was certainly dying. Roland, believing Mrs. J. to be as correct in judgment as she was tart in speech, had been looking out for death from that moment. ”

“ Her hands were clasped and raised before her; her bonnet had fallen back from her face and her bright flaxen hair.
"It is Alletha Rye, isn't it, sir?" he dubiously cried.
"Hold your noise!" said Mr. Butterby.
"I think it would be a wicked thing to let you disperse this night with a false belief on your minds," began Miss Rye, her clear voice sounding quite loud and distinct in the hushed silence. "Wicked in the sight of God; unkind and unjust to the dead. Listen to my words, please, all you who hear me. I believe that a dreadful injury has been thrown upon Mr. Ollivera's memory ”

“ Yorke. You are scarcely in circumstances to keep yourself, let alone a wife."
"That's just the misfortune of it," said candid Roland. "My pound a week does for me, and that's all. But I thought I'd let her know it was the power to serve her that was wanting, not the will. And now that it's said, I've done with the matter, and will wish you good night, Mr. Greatorex. Good night, Annabel. Hark at that squalling upstairs! I wonder the cats don't set up a chorus!"
And Mr. Yorke went out in commotion.
"He does not mean anything, sir," said Annabel Channing rather piteously to Mr. ”

“ Gerald's man-servant in chambers, just as glad as his master to get a respite from troublesome creditors, who went well nigh to wear his patience out, informed one of that ill-used body of men where Mr. Gerald Yorke had gone, on the very day following the departure--"Cruising over the sea in a lord's yacht to foreign parts, and likely to be away till winter." Of course this struck the applicant dumb. He happened to know that Gerald Yorke had a wife and family in town, and he set himself forthwith to learn their address; which he found not very difficult of accomplishment. ”

“ Hurst, his elbow on the desk, had his face turned to the speaker, surveying him at leisure.
"I couldn't stand it; I should have been in my grave in no time; and so I thought I'd try a part of the world that might be more desirable--Port Natal. I say, what are you staring at?"
This was to Mr. Hurst. The latter dropped his elbow as he answered.
"I was looking whether you were much altered. You are: and yet I think I should hare known you, after a bit, for Roland Yorke. When the name was mentioned I might have been at fault, but for your speaking of Lord Carrick."
"He's my uncle," said Roland. ”

“ Or pay of pupils falling off."
"We are both as healthy as ever we can be," said Roland, heartily. "If I had not been strong and sound as a young lion, should I have stood all that knocking about at Port Natal? As to pay and pupils, we might take care to make them sure."
"There might be things to increase expenses," persisted Mrs. Jones, maintaining her ground as usual. "Children, for instance."
Roland stared with all his eyes. "Children!"
"It would be within the range of possibility, I suppose, Mr. Yorke. Your brother Gerald has some."
"Oh law!" cried Roland, his countenance falling. ”