“Mrs. Holbrook is very liberal,” he reflected, complacently. “It will be a pleasure to be in her service. I am fortunate in finding such good friends.”
Paul was fortunate, but his good fortune was deserved. He always tried to do his duty, was always courteous and obliging, and not afraid to work. Such boys generally find friends. If any of my readers think they are badly treated by their employers, and are poorly provided with friends, let them consider whether they have taken pains to deserve them.
Paul had never traveled, and two hours’ ride on the cars from New York to Rockville, on a pleasant, sunny morning, interested him very much.
He knew very little of the country, having spent most of his time in the lower part of the city. He began to think the world was more beautiful than he imagined.
Finally, the cars came to a stop; the conductor called out “Rockville!” and Paul, with curious anticipation, stepped from the cars upon the platform.
There was the usual crowd around the depot. On the platform stood a man with a whip in his hand, evidently a driver.
“Carriage for the hotel, or any part of the village!” he called out.
Paul stepped up to him and inquired: “Can you tell me how far from here Mrs. Granville lives?”
“The widder Granville?” queried the driver.
“I suppose so. She is an old lady.”