"I suppose," said Preston presently, "that Bolitho and Wilson got friendly through thy trial. Of course, Bolitho's a big man, and knows a lot of the big people in London, still, he's allowed his daughter to come visiting here, and I hear, too, that young Ned Wilson is sweet on her."
Paul did not speak. His mind was dazed, but he felt sure that, for weal or for woe, he and this girl would be associated in the future.
"Are you sure she's Bolitho's daughter?" he said to Preston a little later.
"Oh, yes, I'm quite sure. Bolitho was staying at Wilson's house while you were in prison. And it is said that the two families went away to Switzerland together just after Christmas. Besides, Ned Wilson won't be a bad catch. It is said that the firm is making fifty thousand a year, and Ned is the only son. But there, Paul, that's not for us to talk about. They're not in our world at all. We're just beginning, and we shall have hard work to get on. And we must be careful of Ned Wilson, too. But for him, as you know, we should have had Fletcher's weaving shed, and that would have saved us twenty pounds a year in rent."
"Yes," said Paul, and his lips were compressed as he spoke. "I fancy the time will come when Ned Wilson and I will have a lot of old scores to pay off, and I tell you what, Preston, when the time comes I'll not have the worst of it."
A year from that date two events took place which need recording. Preston and Paul had been going carefully through their books, and had been engaged in what might be termed a kind of stocktaking.
"We have had a great year, Paul," said Preston.
"Yes, I suppose so," replied Paul.
"And I doubt if any two chaps, beginning as we did, have had such success as we have had."
"Perhaps not," said Paul, "but we've not had enough yet. I've got a scheme in my mind which I want to talk with you about, Preston."