As soon as the post-obit and the insurance policy are
in this office, Mr. Hine, your first quarter's income is paid into your
bank. I will have an agreement drawn, binding me on my side to pay you
two thousand a year until your uncle's death."
Mr. Jarvice rose as if the interview was ended. He moved some papers on
his table, and added carelessly--"You have a good solicitor, I suppose?"
"I haven't a solicitor at all," said Walter Hine, as he, too, rose.
"Oh, haven't you?" said Mr. Jarvice, with all the appearance of surprise.
"Well, shall I give you an introduction to one?" He sat down, wrote a
note, placed it in an envelope, which he left unfastened, and addressed
it. Then he handed the envelope to his client.
"Messrs. Jones and Stiles, Lincoln's Inn Fields," he said. "But ask for
Mr. Driver. Tell him the whole proposal frankly, and ask his advice."
"Driver?" said Hine, fingering the envelope. "Hadn't I ought to see one
of the partners?"
Mr. Jarvice smiled.
"You have a business head, Mr. Hine, that's very clear. I'll let you into
a secret. Mr. Driver is rather like yourself--something of a rebel, Mr.
Hine. He came into disagreement with that very arbitrary body the
Incorporated Law Society, so,--well his name does not figure in the firm.
But he _is_ Jones and Stiles. Tell him everything! If he advises you
against my proposal, I shall even say take his advice.
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