“I’m glad, Fibsy,” Avice said, for she somehow liked to use his funny nickname, “that Judge Hoyt did get you a good position and I hope you’ll make good in it.”
“Yes’m, I sure hope so, but you see I’d doped it out to stay an’ help you out on this here case o’ yourn. I mean about Mr. Trowbridge—you know——”
“Yes, I know, Fibsy, and it’s kind of you to take such interest, but, I doubt if so young a boy as you are could be of much real help, and so it’s as well for you to go to a good employer, where you’ll have a chance to learn——”
“Yes, Miss Avice,” Fibsy interrupted impatiently, “an’ I begs you’ll fergive me, but I wanta ask you sumpum’ ’fore I go. Will you—would you—”
“Well, say it, child, don’t be afraid,” Avice smiled pleasantly at him.
“Yes’m. Would you—” his eyes roved round the room,—“would you now, gimme some little thing as a soovyneer of Mr. Trowbridge? I was orful fond of him,—I was.”
“Why, of course, I will,” said Avice, touched by the request. “Let me see,” she looked about the library table, “here’s a silver envelope opener my uncle often used. Would you like that?”
“Oh, yes’m—thank you lots, Miss Avice, and I guess I better be goin’—”
“Terence,” and Avice, struck by a sudden thought, looked the boy straight in the face, “Terence, that isn’t what you started to ask,—is it? Answer me truly.”
The blue eyes fell and then, lifted again, looked at her frankly.