Mr. Vivian took from his pocket-book a ten-dollar bill and placed it in Gilbert’s hands.
“Under the circumstances,” he said, “you may as well give up selling papers.”
“I shall be very glad to give it up, sir, and now I shall feel able to do so.”
“I appreciate and respect your motives in doing what you could find to do, but now you are a teacher,—a classical professor,—and must do nothing incompatible with the dignity of your learned profession.”
“I will try to remember it, sir.”
“I must leave you now. Let us see you this evening.”
“I will be sure to come, sir.”
When Gilbert left the hotel, he felt elated at his unexpected good fortune.
“I believe the tide has turned,” he said to himself. “I little dreamed that my Latin would prove such a friend in need. I can’t expect to earn the liberal sum Mr. Vivian has agreed to pay me, but I will do my duty as faithfully and well as I can.”
Just after dinner that evening Alphonso Jones strolled into Gilbert’s room.