Rupert ascended the stairway at his humble home in Elizabeth Street with a slow step. He felt that he could no longer conceal his discharge from his mother, and he knew what a blow it would be to her. So as he handed the money to Mrs. Rollins he said: "I have bad news for you, mother. I am discharged."
"Discharged!" repeated his mother, in dismay. "Why? What have you done?"
"There is no dissatisfaction with me. I am discharged because times are dull, and business has fallen off."
"I am glad at least that no fault is found with you, but what shall we do? Your salary was all we had to depend upon except the little I make by sewing."
"Don't be discouraged, mother. I shall start to find a place Monday morning. I am allowed to refer to the old firm."
"But—do you think there is any chance to get in elsewhere? Won't other firms be affected by the dull times?"
This was precisely what troubled Rupert, but he answered his mother cheerfully.
"To-morrow is Sunday," he said. "Don't let us think of the future till Monday morning. I am sure something will turn up. At the worst, I can earn something by selling papers."
When Monday morning came Rupert started out on his quest. He had been sent on errands to several houses in the same line, and he resolved to go from one to another in the hope of finding a vacancy.