“Let’s go see the aquarium,” said Cornelius.

“What do you think of that, Saffy?” the father asked the bright child walking hand in hand with him. Her name was Josephine, with eyes so blue he would have called her Sapphira but for the association. Between the two he contented himself with the pet name Saffy.

“Oh, yes, let’s go see the fish, papa!”

As they were close, it did not take long before they entered and began the descent into the fascinating place. About halfway down, Cornelius gave a cry of recognition and darted down to the next landing. With a degree of respect he seldom manifested they saw him there accost a gentleman leaning over the balustrade, and shake hands with him. He was several years older than Cornelius, not a few inches taller, and much better-looking—one indeed who could hardly fail to attract notice even in a crowd. It was with almost a jeaous admiration that Cornelius cast a few glances at him. When the rest reached the landing, and Mr. Raymount, willing to know his son’s friend, desired Corney to introduce him.

Cornelius had been now eighteen months in the bank, and had never even mentioned the name of a fellow clerk. He was one of those youths who take the only possible way for emptiness to make itself of consequence—that of concealment and affected mystery. Not even now but for his father’s request, would he have presented his bank friend to him or any of the family.

The manners and approach of Mr. Vavasor were such as at once to recommend him to the friendly reception of all, from Mr. Raymount to little Saffy, who had the rare charm of being shy without being rude. If not genial, his manners were yet friendly, and his carriage if not graceful was easy. It was a kind of company bearing he had, but dashed with indifference, except where he desired to commend himself. He shook hands with little Saffy as respectfully as with her mother, but with neither altogether respectfully. Immediately, however, the pale-faced, cold, loving boy, Mark, unconsciously, disliked him. He was beyond question handsome, bearing an aristocratic look.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming, Mr. Vavasor? I could have met you,” said Cornelius, with just a little stretch of the degree of familiarity in use between them.

“I didn’t know myself till the last minute,” answered Vavasor. “It was a sudden decision of my aunt’s. I had not the remotest idea you were here.”

“Have you been looking at the fish?” asked Hester, at whose side their new acquaintance was walking, now that they had reached the subterranean level.

“Yes, but they are not very well kept. The glass is dirty and the water too. It seemed to me they look unhappy. I can hardly bear it. It would be a good deed to poison them all.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to give them fresh water?” said little Saffy. “That would make them happy.”