“I can’t save anything from it. If you give me the six dollars beside, I’ll put some in the savings bank.”
“I will wait and see whether the boy calls for it.”
“I hope he won’t.”
“He probably will. He’ll take all he can get. That is his nature.”
Mrs. Briggs quite misread Gilbert, as my readers will probably judge; but she was too prejudiced to judge him fairly.
Randolph was not as mean as his mother. He had a little of his father’s nature, though he was more like his mother. The thought that it would impair his future inheritance did not much affect him, but the prospect of having his allowance so largely increased took away all consideration for Gilbert. He cared very little whether our hero was able to pay his board or not, if only the money might be paid to him. He was very selfish certainly; but he loved money for what it would buy, and not for its own sake, as was the case with his mother. Of course he hoped that Gilbert would not present himself at the house, or make inquiry for the money; but in this he was destined to be disappointed.
Sitting at the window on the evening Gilbert had resolved to call, he saw, not without disappointment, our hero mount the steps and ring the bell.
“He’s come, mother,” said he, in a tone of regret.
“Who has come?”
“Gilbert Greyson. I suppose he has come for his six dollars.”