“Kinder to you than Mr Revitts?” she said softly.
“Oh, he’s not like William Revitts,” I said eagerly. “I can’t quite explain it; he’s so different. I like Revitts, but I always seem to have to teach him. Mr Hallett teaches me, Miss Carr. I think he will be a great man.”
“You foolish boy!” she cried, in a nervous, excited way. “There, then: it is settled. You will go and see Mr Girtley, at his office in Great George Street, Westminster, and you may hid adieu to the printing-office, and make your first start towards being a professional man as soon as ever you like.”
“I—I can never be grateful enough to you, Miss Carr,” I said, in a trembling voice.
“Oh yes, my dear boy, you can. Work on and succeed, and you will more than repay me.”
“Then I shall soon be out of debt,” I said joyfully.
“I hope so, Antony,” she said sadly; “but don’t be too sanguine.—Yes?”
“Mr Lister, ma’am,” said the servant who had entered. “He would be glad if you would see him for a few minutes.”
“Did—did you tell him I was not alone?” said Miss Carr, whose face seemed to have turned cold and stern.
“No, ma’am, I only took his message.”