“It is an easy pattern to join,” said Mr Tooke.
“There now! And that is the chief thing. If you do the library books, I cannot help you, you know. And remember, you will have two miles to walk each way; four miles a-day in addition to the work.”
“He can sleep at Crofton, if he likes,” said Mr Tooke.
“That would be a queer way of staying at uncle Shaw’s,” observed Hugh.
“Then there is copying the rules,” said Holt. “I might do that here; and you might help me, if you liked.”
“Dull work!” exclaimed Hugh. “Think of copying the same rules three or four times over! And then, if you make mistakes, if you do not write clearly, where is your half-crown? I don’t mean that I would not help you, but it would be the dullest work of all.”
Mr Tooke sat patiently waiting till Holt had made up his mind. He perceived something that never entered Hugh’s mind: that Holt’s pride was hurt at the notion of doing workman’s work. He wrote on a slip of paper these few words, and pushed them across the table to Holt, with a smile:—
“No debtor’s hands are clean, however white they be: Who digs and pays his way—the true gentleman is he.”
Holt coloured as he read, and immediately said that he chose the papering job. Mr Tooke rose, tossed the slip of paper into the fire, buttoned up his coat, and said that he should let widow Murray know that a workman would wait upon her the next morning, and that she must have her paste and brushes and scissors ready.
“And a pair of steps,” said Hugh, with a sigh.