"And he did go?" said Mr. Balderby.

"He did, sir," answered the clerk, who had displayed considerable
emotion in relating this story of the past. "He did go, sir,--he sold
his commission, and left England by the _Oronoko_. But he never took
leave of a living creature, and I fully believe that he never in his
heart forgave either his father or his uncle. He worked his way up, as
you know, sir, in the Calcutta counting-house, and by slow degrees rose
to be manager of the Indian branch of the business. He married in 1831,
and he has an only child, a daughter, who has been brought up in England
since her infancy, under the care of Mr. Percival."

"Yes," answered Mr. Balderby, "I have seen Miss Laura Dunbar at her
grandfather's country seat. She is a very beautiful girl, and Percival
Dunbar idolized her. But now to return to business, my good Sampson. I
believe you are the only person in this house who has ever seen our
present chief, Henry Dunbar."

"I am, sir."

"So far so good. He is expected to arrive at Southampton in less than a
week's time, and somebody must be there to meet him and receive him.
After five-and-thirty years' absence he will be a perfect stranger in
England, and will require a business man about him to manage matters for
him, and take all trouble off his hands. These Anglo-Indians are apt to
be indolent, you know, and he may be all the worse for the fatigues of
the overland journey. Now, as you know him, Sampson, and as you are an
excellent man of business, and as active as a boy, I should like you to
meet him. Have you any objection to do this?"