Grant's interest was excited, and he looked forward to meeting his employer's son, not without eagerness. He had not long to wait.
The little fellow was in the street in front of the house when his father reached home. He was a slender, old-fashioned boy in appearance, who looked as if he had been in the habit of keeping company with grown people. His frame was small, but his head was large. He was pale, and would have been plain, but for a pair of large, dark eyes, lighting up his face.
“Welcome home, papa,” he said, running up to meet Mr. Reynolds.
The broker stooped over and kissed his son. Then he said: “I have brought you some company, Herbert. This is Grant Thornton, the boy I spoke to you about.”
“I am glad to make your acquaintance,” said the boy, with old-fashioned courtesy, offering his hand.
“And I am glad to meet you, Herbert,” responded Grant, pleasantly.
The little boy looked up earnestly in the face of his father's office boy.
“I think I shall like you,” he said.
Mr. Reynolds looked pleased, and so did Grant.
“I am sure we shall be very good friends,” said our hero.