“How are you related to them?” inquired Paul.
“Why, you see, I'm own cousin to Mr. Dawkins. His father and my mother were brother and sister.”
“What was his father's business?” asked Paul.
“I don't know what his regular business was, but he was a sexton in some church.”
This tallied with the account Paul had received from Mr. Cameron, and he could no longer doubt that, strange as it seemed, the wealthy Mr. Dawkins was own cousin to the pedler.
“Didn't you say the boy was in the same office with you, Paul?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I've a great mind to go and see him, and find out where his father lives. Perhaps I may get an invite to his house.”
“How shocked Dawkins will be!” thought Paul, not, it must be confessed, without a feeling of amusement. He felt no compunction in being the instrument of mortifying the false pride of his fellow clerk, and he accordingly signified to Mr. Stubbs that he was on his way to the counting-room.
“Are you, though? Well, I guess I'll go along with you. Is it far off?”