"You have been a careful and useful assistant and friend, Sterling," said the merchant, in a kindly tone, touching him on the shoulder with unaccustomed familiarity, "and I thank you for the great good your services have done the house."
"Bless you, sir, bless you—you are too good. I don't deserve it," replied Sterling, unable to restrain the tears which this unusual display of good feeling, had forced up from the poor old man's heart.
"I shall have no further need of you to-day, Sterling, if you have any business of your own to transact."
"I have, I have, my good, kind friend, and thank you for granting me the opportunity," said Sterling, descending with difficulty from his place of torture.—Why will they not abolish those inflexible horrors, those relics of barbarism, those inquisitorial chattels—office-stools? "I'll go now, and mingle my happiness with the sweet breath of Heaven—and yet, if I dared to say what I want—I"——
"Well, speak out, old friend." The merchant went on, with an encouraging look: "If your salary be insufficient"——
"Oh! no, no!" interposed the other, suddenly, "I am profusely paid—too much, indeed—but"—and he cast down his eyes hesitatingly.
"This reserve with me is foolish, Sterling. What have you to say?"
"Nothing much, sir; indeed, I hardly know how to bring it out, knowing, as I well do, your strange antipathy"—— Granite turned abruptly away. He now knew what was coming, and it was with a dark frown upon his brow he paced the office, as Sterling continued:
"I saw him to-day."
"Travers?"