Harry accompanied his kind guardian into London the following day, and was introduced in due form to Mr. Silas Sleech, one of the principal clerks under Mr. Kyffin, as well as to the other persons engaged in Mr. Coppinger's counting-house in Idol Lane.
"You are welcome, Mr. Tryon," said Mr. Sleech, with whom Harry found himself left for a short time. "I have heard of you before at Lynderton; indeed, I remember your countenance very well as a boy. You do not probably recollect me, however. Still you may possibly have heard the name of my respected father, one of the principal lawyers in Lynderton. We are a very well-connected family, but we do not boast of that here. While in this office, we are men of business; we sink every other character. You understand me, Mr. Tryon, and if you are wise you will follow my advice. Here I am your superior and director, but outside this door we are equals, and I hope soon to say, we are friends."
Harry watched Mr. Sleech's countenance while he spoke. He did not particularly like its expression. It was then animated and vivacious enough, but directly afterwards, when Mr. Kyffin drew near, it assumed a peculiarly dull and inanimate look, as if he was absorbed completely in the books over which he was poring.
Mr. Coppinger himself soon afterwards arrived, and called Harry into his private room. He spoke to him much in the same way that Mr. Kyffin had done.
"You could not be in better hands than those of your guardian," he observed. "However, as after a time you may grow tired of your daily walk backwards and forwards to Hampstead, you shall have the room over the counting-house, and I shall be happy to see you at my house, where you can become better acquainted with your cousins."
Harry thanked his uncle for his kindness, and expressed a hope that he should be attentive to business. The first moment he had time he wrote to Mabel, telling her of his good fortune in having a situation given him in Mr. Coppinger's house. He had previously written in a very different tone, giving an account of his grandmother's death, and the penury in which she had left him. He had not, however, told Mabel that he would release her from her engagement to him. While any hope yet lingered in his bosom he could not bring himself to do that. Now he was once more in spirits, and he felt sure that fortune would smile on him. He had never told Mabel that it was very possible Mr. Kyffin might leave him his property. He had determined never to build on such a possibility. In the first place, Mr. Kyffin was not an old man, and might live for many years, or he might have relatives who had claims on him, or he might not consider it necessary, simply because he was his ward, to leave him anything.