It was singular that he kept on writing the same name, and it wasn’t his own.
When George returned he informed Mr. Brooks that there was nothing for Smith & Co., from Dublin, and Mr. Brooks said, ‘Oh, all right,’ and didn’t seem at all surprised.
At four o’clock George’s work was done for the day, and he went home.
Bess ran down to meet him at the door. She had been watching from the windows, and had seen him coming along the street.
She had an idea that he would be quite worn out with hard work, and had had half a mind to go and fetch him. City work, she knew, was very hard. She had read in the newspapers about clerks committing suicide, and merchants going mad through overwork. She was quite surprised to see George come up the steps two at a time, and when he caught her in his arms, and gave her a good hug that nearly squeezed the breath out of her body, she was more astonished still.
When they got upstairs, and George had flung himself into his favourite chair, Bess poured in a broadside of questions.
‘Did he like it? Was A. B. nice? What did he have to do? Was the office comfortable?’
George, in reply, gave a full, true, and particular account of his day’s work.
‘It’s nothing at all,’ he said. ‘I’d no idea how easy it was to earn money in the City. I’m a jolly lucky fellow, little woman, and I’m glad I’m able to earn my own living. You see, I shall have plenty of spare time to do something else, and perhaps, if Smith & Co. like me, I shall get promoted, and drop in for a good thing. Why, I have heard that a thousand a year is nothing of a salary in the City. Fancy me earning a thousand a year! By Jove, what would the governor say to that?’
Bess was lost in calculating how much a thousand a year would be a week, and how much she should be able to spend in housekeeping.