"No, I come from England; and I've a letter of introduction to your master." Archie brought the last word out with a bang.
"Mr. Berry isn't in. Will you leave a message?"
"No, thank you."
"As you please."
Archie was going off, when the clerk called after him, "Here is Mr. Berry himself, sir."
A tall, brown-faced, elderly gentleman, with very white hair and pleasant smile. He took Archie into the office, bade him be seated, and slowly read the letter; then he approached the young man and shook hands. The hand felt like a dead fish's tail in Archie's, and somehow the smile had vanished.
"I'm really glad to see your father's son," he said. "Sorry though to hear that he has had a run of bad luck. Very bad luck it must be, too," he added, "to let you come out here."
"Indeed, sir; but I mean to make my for——that is, I want to make my living."
"Ay, young man, living's more like it; and I wish I could help you. There's a wave of depression over this side of our little island at present, and I don't know that any office in town has a genteel situation to offer you."
Archie's soul-heat sank a degree or two.