“You don’t look so.”
“You judge from my dress, no doubt”—Hector was attired in a suit of fine texture—“I suppose I may say,” he added, with a smile, “that I have seen better days.”
“Surely, you are young to have met with reverses, if that is what you mean to imply,” the merchant remarked, observing our hero with some curiosity.
“Yes, sir; if you have time, I will explain to you how it happened.”
As the story has already been told, I will not repeat Hector’s words.
Mr. Newman listened with unaffected interest.
“It is certainly a curious story,” he said. “Did you, then, quietly surrender your claims to the estate simply upon your uncle’s unsupported assertion?”
“I beg pardon, sir. He showed me my father’s—that is, Mr. Roscoe’s—letter.”
“Call him your father, for I believe he was.”
“Do you, sir?” asked Hector, eagerly.