“No, sir,” answered Gilbert. “I am out of business just at present.”
“I thought you were in the office of a stock-broker.”
“So I was; but I have lost my place.”
“Through no fault of your own, I am sure.”
“No, sir. I should not have lost my place if Mr. Sands had been in the city. During his absence the book-keeper, who has a dislike to me because I superseded his cousin, discharged me.”
“Come up this evening to my house, Gilbert. Then I shall be at leisure, and you can tell me all the details of the affair.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I am sure he won’t credit the charge against me,” thought Gilbert, and this thought encouraged him not a little.
Gilbert continued his walk. As he was passing Trinity church-yard, he was accosted by a little girl, of perhaps eight years old. “Won’t you buy some flowers, sir?—only five cents.”
Gilbert shook his head mechanically. Then he glanced at the little girl, and his sympathy was aroused. She was poorly dressed, with a fragile figure, and thin, pale face, which yet only lacked the roundness and rosy hue of health to be uncommonly pretty. She did not repeat her request, but she looked sad and depressed. Gilbert paused and spoke to her.