“That is a fine fellow, Alice, a very fine fellow. I wish I could see my way to doing him a good turn. I have been asking him, delicately you know, my dear, as an old man might ask a young one, to let me treat him as my legal adviser in the matter, but he would not hear of it. It is not often that a cheque for five hundred pounds gets thrown into the fire.”
Alice looked pleased.
“I do wish I could do something for him; but I don’t see my way, Alice—do you?”
Alice shook her head; but as she bent over her work a flush mounted up to her forehead, as if the idea of some reward Prescott would care about had occurred to her. Whatever it was, she did not mention it to her uncle.
It was about a week after this that John Holl’s master said to him one evening when he went up with the carts at the end of the day’s work,—
“By the way, John, the carts won’t go out to-morrow. I’ve sold the whole thing out, as I told you I was going to; and to-morrow the things change hands, and the new name will be painted on the carts.”
“Well, gaffer,” John said, “we’ve worked a good many years together, and I am as sorry as can be that you’re going to leave us. Have you spoken a word for me to the new gaffer? I ain’t as young as I was, master; but no man can complain I don’t do a fair day’s work.”
“I’ve told him about you, John, and you’ll find it all right. I was talking about you and your wife having brought up that boy, and of his having turned out a rich chap. He was quite tickled about it, and so was his wife. She’s a kindish sort of woman, John, and she said she should like to see your wife.”
“Now, master, you needn’t have gone on upon that affair,” John said, reproachfully; “there never wer’nt nothing in it, you know.”
“Yes, John, but I was only saying that it was a rum start; and, you see, it may do you good, you know. It always does do good when a master and man take a fancy to each other. So you come up to-morrow afternoon, at three o’clock, to square up. And tell your wife to brush up a bit, and come along with you.”