Herb of Grace | Page 6

me know your name," he continued.
"Caleb Martin, sir," replied the cobbler; "and we live in Todmorden's
Lane, leading out of Beauchamp Street. It is Mr. Bennet's the
bootmaker, and I works for him and lives in the basement, 'long of wife
and Kit."
"Beauchamp Street--oh yes, I know. Then you had better get the child
home." He nodded and smiled at Kit as he moved away.
Caleb gazed after him with open mouth and pale eyes full of speechless
gratitude; but Kit had unfurled the umbrella proudly, and sat like a
queen in a silken tent.
"Ain't he a gentleman!" she exclaimed with a joyous chuckle; "seems to
me the angels must be his sort. Wasn't he just splendid, dad!" But Caleb,
who was trundling the perambulator down a side street, only shook his
head in silence.

Malcolm felt a warm glow of exhilaration, which secretly moved him
to astonishment, as he ran lightly up the long bare flights of stairs to his
chambers. "A mere trifle like that," he said to himself contemptuously,
as he entered the outer room, where a small and exceedingly sharp
office boy, rejoicing in the euphonious name of Malachi Murphy,
beguiled the tedium of the waiting hours by cutting the initials of his
family on the legs of the table.
When Malcolm wanted to amuse a friendly visitor, he would question
Malachi blandly and innocently on his brothers' and sisters' names.
"You are all minor prophets," he would say carelessly. "I think Mr.
So-and-So would be interested to hear how you came by these names."
And thus encouraged, Malachi would twist his face knowingly, until it
resembled a gargoyle rather than a human face, and start away as
though he had been wound up afresh.
"Well, it was like this, sir. Father was just reading Hosea on Sunday
evening, when mother took bad, and so they made up their minds that
they would call my eldest brother Hosea; the next one was Joel,
because father liked the name; and by-and-by mother put in her word
for Amos. Obadiah only lived five weeks; and the next was a girl, and
they called her Micah. Father wouldn't have none of us christened
Jonah, because he said he was real mean; but we had Nahum, and
Habakkuk Zephaniah and Haggai Zechariah; and when my time came
there was nothing left but Malachi, and father said we had better finish
the job: and so Malachi I was. It is a blessing," continued Malachi
frankly, "that Habakkuk Zephaniah and Haggai Zechariah died when
they were babies; for none of us would have known what to call them;
as it is, I am mostly called Mealy Murphy down my way."
"There's a gentleman waiting to see you, sir," observed Malachi,
dropping his clasp knife dexterously into the waste-paper basket.
"Wouldn't give his name. Seems in a mighty hurry by the way he has
been walking all over the shop," he continued, sotto voce, as he dipped
his pen into the ink again. "I wonder what the governor would say if he
had heard him whistling like a penny steamer and playing old Sallie
with the pen-wipers and sealing-wax. A lively sort of bloke as ever I

see."
Malcolm walked rapidly to the door and opened it; as he did so, a look
of surprise and pleasure crossed his face at the sight of a handsome,
fair-haired youth, lying back on his easy-chair, with his feet resting on
a pile of ledgers.
"Hallo, Cedric!" he exclaimed in a cordial tone. "What on earth has
brought you up to town on the hottest day of the year? No, stay where
you are," as his visitor attempted to rise, and Malcolm put his hands
lightly on the boy's shoulders, pressing him gently back against the
cushions. "I never sit there myself unless I am lazy."
"All right, old chap," returned the other easily. "I didn't want to move;
only manners maketh man--I always was the pink of courtesy and
politeness, don't you know. Ask old Dinah, and she will tell you."
"Oh yes, we all know that," returned Malcolm drily. "Now, will you
answer my question--what brings you up to Lincoln's Inn in this
unexpected manner?"
"Keep cool, old fellow, and take a seat, and I will tell you," returned the
lad in a patronising tone. "You see I am staying at Teddington. Fred
Courtenay was spliced yesterday, and I had promised to be at the
show."
"Oh, I forgot Courtenay was to be married yesterday," muttered
Malcolm.
"It went off all right," continued Cedric. "No one forbade the banns,
and the happy couple drove away with half-a-dozen satin slippers
reposing on the roof of the carriage. But now the business is over, it is a
trifle dull. Fred's sisters are all in the