“‘She died when I was born, and I am ten years old. Papa gave me her picture, and I always wear it. I would starve, sir, but I would never part from it.’ I am sure the boy has it on now, but I would not like to ask him to show it to you. He is sensitive, and I would not risk hurting him.”
“No, indeed, I would not have you, if you were ever so willing. And what more, Mr. Adams? It is well I did not know of this while he was in college; I am afraid I should have spoiled him.”
“Well, I asked him if he had brothers or sisters. His reply was—
“‘I had one brother; he died a year ago.’
“‘How long since your father died?’
“‘Eight weeks, sir.’
“‘And you started at the boot-blacking business one week later?’
“‘Yes, sir.’
“‘What was your father’s business?’
“‘When he was in business, he was a stockbroker.’