“I will see him, Dill.  Send him in.”

The business leading to the visit was quite simple.  Captain Frederick Thorn had got himself into some trouble and vexation about “a bill”—­as too many captains will do—­and he had come to crave advice of Mr. Carlyle.

Mr. Carlyle felt dubious about giving it.  This Captain Thorn was a pleasant, attractive sort of a man, who won much on acquaintance; one whom Mr. Carlyle would have been pleased, in a friendly point of view, and setting professional interest apart, to help out of his difficulties; but if he were the villain they suspected him to be, the man with crime upon his hand, then Mr. Carlyle would have ordered his office door held wide for him to slink out of it.

“Cannot you advise me what my course ought to be?” he inquired, detecting Mr. Carlyle’s hesitation.

“I could advise you, certainly.  But—­you must excuse my being plain, Captain Thorn—­I like to know who my clients are before I take up their cause or accept them as clients.”

“I am able to pay you,” was Captain Thorn’s reply.  “I am not short of ready money; only this bill—­”

Mr. Carlyle laughed out, after having bit his lip with annoyance.  “It was a natural inference of yours,” he said, “but I assure you I was not thinking of your purse or my pocket.  My father held it right never to undertake business for a stranger—­unless a man was good, in a respectable point of view, and his cause was good, he did not mention it—­and I have acted on the same principle.  By these means, the position and character of our business, is rarely attained by a solicitor.  Now, in saying that you are a stranger to me, I am not casting any doubt upon you, Captain Thorn, I am merely upholding my common practice.”

“My family is well connected,” was Captain Thorn’s next venture.

“Excuse me; family has nothing to do with it.  If the poorest day laborer, if a pauper out of the workhouse came to me for advice, he should be heartily welcome to it, provided he were an honest man in the face of the day.  Again I repeat, you must take no offence at what I say, for I cast no reflection on you; I only urge that you and your character are unknown to me.”

Curious words from a lawyer to a client-aspirant, and Captain Thorn found them so.  But Mr. Carlyle’s tone was so courteous, his manner so affable, in fact he was so thoroughly the gentleman, that it was impossible to feel hurt.

“Well, how can I convince you that I am respectable?  I have served my country ever since I was sixteen, and my brother officers have found no cause of complaint—­any position as an officer and a gentleman would be generally deemed a sufficient guarantee.  Inquire of John Herbert.  The Herberts, too, are friends of yours, and they have not disdained to give me room amidst their family.”

“True,” returned Mr. Carlyle, feeling that he could not well object further; and also that all men should be deemed innocent until proved guilty.  “At any rate, I will advise you what must be done at present,” he added, “though if the affair is one that must go on, I do not promise that I can continue to act for you.  I am very busy just now.”