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"'Um," said Beevor, "you've got along very well alone so far at least, by your own account; so I dare say you'll be able to manage without me to the end. Only, you know," he added, as he left the room, "you haven't won your spurs yet. A fellow isn't necessarily a Gilbert Scott, or a Norman Shaw, or a Waterhouse just because he happens to get a sixty-thousand pound job the first go off!"
Horace hardly dared to meet Beevor's eyes, which were fixed upon the green-turbaned Jinnee, as he stood apart in dreamy abstraction, smiling placidly to himself. "I say," Beevor said to Horace, at last, in an undertone, "you never told me you had gone into partnership." "He's not a regular partner," whispered Ventimore; "he does odd things for me occasionally, that's all."
So, having settled these points to his entire satisfaction, he went to his office in Great Cloister Street, which he now had entirely to himself, and was soon engaged in drafting the specification for Beevor on which he had been working when so fortunately interrupted the day before by the Professor.
He spread out a large coloured plan, in a corner of which appeared the name of "William Beevor, Architect," and began to study it in a spirit of anything but appreciation. "Beevor gets on," he said to himself. "Heaven knows that I don't grudge him his success. He's a good fellow though he does build architectural atrocities, and seem to like 'em. Who am I to give myself airs?
And Beevor hurried back to his own room, where for the next few minutes he could be heard bustling Harrison, the clerk, to make haste; then a hansom was whistled for, there were footsteps down the old stairs, the sounds of a departing vehicle on the uneven stones, and after that silence and solitude. It was not in Nature to avoid feeling a little envious.
So saying, Beevor retired to his own room, and shut the door with the same irreproachable discretion, which conveyed that he was not in the least surprised, but was too much of a gentleman to show it. "Well, Mr. Wackerbath," began Horace, when they were alone, "so you're disappointed with the house?" "Disappointed!" said Mr. Wackerbath, furiously. "I am disgusted, sir, disgusted!"
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