I heard about him several times after that, because he wrote to Harry, and said he was doing well, and was reconciled to his father again. And some weeks afterwards he came down to see us, and his handsome face was handsomer than ever. He was beautifully dressed, and looked what he was—a gentleman to the backbone.
He stayed and had tea with us, and told us that he had fallen in love with his friend’s sister, and they were going to be married, and he was to be taken into partnership.
Something like a friend that, was it not?
He told us that he was in business in the Baltic.
“Why,” said Harry, “that’s in Russia!”
But he explained it was the Baltic—an exchange or something of the sort—in London, where business is done in grain, I think, and tallow, that comes from Russia. At any rate, he was doing very well, and since then I have seen his marriage in the paper.
Some day he has promised to bring his young wife down with him to stay at our hotel.
I am sure that we shall make them heartily welcome, and take care not to mention before her about his once having been our billiard-marker.
After he left, we had to look out for another marker, and we engaged a lad about fifteen. He was a wonderful player; but of all the forward, artful young demons that ever lived, I know there never was his equal. He was that crafty, you’d have thought he was fifty instead of fifteen. Talk about old heads on young shoulders! I’ll just give you a specimen of what he could be up to. One day——
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