Sidebilder
PDF
ePub

to the counting-house, it had grown very thick. Through its reddish mass the gas-lights shone with the cold brilliance of pale gold.

The scene of their daily labour was not one of those grand rooms with plate-glass windows, which now seem to be considered, if not absolutely necessary to commercial respectability, yet a not altogether despicable means of arriving at such. It was a rather long, rather narrow, rather low, but this morning not so dark room as usual-for the whole force of gas-burners was in active operation. In general it was dark, for it was situated in a narrow street, opening off one of the principal city thoroughfares.

As the young men entered, they were greeted with a low growl from the principal clerk, a black-browed, long-nosed man. This was the sole recognition he gave them. Two other clerks looked up with a good morning and a queer expression in their eyes. Some remarks had been made about them before they entered. And now a voice came from the penetralia.

"Tom, I want you."

Tom was disposing of his hat and gloves with

some care.

"You hear the governor, Mr. Worboise, I suppose?" said Mr. Stopper, the head -clerk, in the same growling voice, only articulated now.

"I

"Yes, I hear him," answered Thomas, with some real and some assumed nonchalance. do hear him, Mr. Stopper."

وو

Through a glass partition, which crossed the whole of the room, Mr. Boxall," the governor,' might be seen at a writing-table, with his face towards the exoteric department. All that a spectator from without could see, as he went on writing, was a high forehead, occupying more than its due share of a countenance which, foreshortened of course from its position at the table, appeared otherwise commonplace and rather insignificant, and a head which had been as finely tonsured by the scythe of Time as if the highest ecclesiastical dignity had depended upon the breadth and perfection of the vacancy. The corona which resulted was

iron-grey.

When Thomas was quite ready, he walked into

the inner room.

"Tom, my boy, you are late," said Mr. Boxall, lifting a face whose full view considerably modified the impression I have just given. There was great brilliance in the deep-set eyes, and a certain something, almost merriment, about the mouth, hovering lightly over a strong upper lip, which overhung and almost hid a disproportionately small under one. His chin was large,

and between it and the forehead there was little space left for any further development of countenance.

"Not very late, I believe, sir," answered Thomas. "My watch must have misled me.” "Pull out your watch, my boy, and let us see."

Thomas obeyed.

"By your own watch, it is a quarter past,” said Mr. Boxall.

"I have been here five minutes."

"I will not do you the discredit of granting you have spent that time in taking off your

hat and gloves. Your watch is five minutes slower than mine," continued Mr. Boxall, pulling out a saucepan of silver," and mine is five minutes slower than the Exchange. You are nearly half an hour late. You will never get

on if you are not punctual. It's an old-fashioned

virtue, I know.

But first at the office is first at

the winning-post, I can tell you. You'll never

make money if you're late."

"I have no particular wish-I don't want to make money," said Thomas.

"But I do," rejoined Mr. Boxall, goodnaturedly; "and you are my servant, and must do your part."

Thereat Thomas bridled visibly.

"Ah! I see," resumed the merchant; "you don't like the word. I will change it. There's no masters or servants nowadays; they are all governors and employees. What they gain by

the alteration, I am sure I don't know."

I spell the italicized word thus, because Mr.

Boxall pronounced employés exactly as if it were an English word ending in ees.

Mr. Worboise's lip curled.

He could afford

to be contemptuous. He had been to Boulogne, and believed he could make a Frenchman understand him. He certainly did know two of the conjugations out of-I really don't know how many. His master did not see what the curl indicated, but possibly his look made Thomas feel that he had been rude. He sought to cover it by saying

"Mr. Wither was as late as I was, sir. I think it's very hard I should be always pulled up, and nobody else."

"Mr. Wither is very seldom late, and you are often late, my boy. Besides, your father is a friend of mine, and I want to do my duty by him. I want you to get on."

"My father is much obliged to you, sir."

"So he tells me," returned Mr. Boxall, with remarkable good humour. "We expect you to dine with us to-morrow, mind."

"Thank you,

I have another engage

ment," answered Thomas, with dignity, as he thought.

« ForrigeFortsett »