“Yes, yes; of course you can, but I shall not let you. Here, boy, come here.”
I entered the room nervously, to find myself in presence of a handsome, well-dressed man, another who was stout and elderly, and two young ladies, while upon the table lay a parcel of books, probably the subject of the remark.
“Hallo! what boy are you?” said the younger man. “Oh! one of the new ones, I suppose.”
“No, sir,” I said, with voice trembling and my face working, for I was unnerved by the treatment I had just received and the dashing of my hopes; “I came to be engaged, but—but the gentleman upstairs turned me away.”
“Why?” said the elder man sharply.
“Because I had not been in the printing-office, sir.”
“Oh, of course!” he said, nodding. “Of course. We want lads accustomed to the trade, my man.”
“You should teach him the trade, Mr Ruddle,” said one of the young ladies quickly, and I darted a look of gratitude at her.
“Too busy, Miss Carr,” he said, smiling at her. “We don’t keep a printer’s school.”
“I’ll teach him,” whispered the young man eagerly, though I heard him; “I’ll teach him anything, if you’ll promise not to be so cruel.”