“I don’t consider that a misfortune,” said Mr. Vivian. “It will make a man of you the sooner. But about this property, do you know how much it amounted to originally?”
“No, sir.”
“Hasn’t Mr. Briggs ever rendered an account to you?”
“No, sir. I have always supposed that I should be rich until within a week. Then, for the first time, I was told that I must withdraw from school, and get a place.”
“Mr. Briggs has not treated you fairly in leaving you uninformed as to your real position,” said Mr. Vivian, gravely.
“I won’t blame him, but I wish he had told me earlier.”
By this time they had reached a fashionable confectioner’s.
“Come in with us, and have an ice-cream,” said Mr. Vivian.
“Thank you, sir,” said Gilbert, and the three entered and sat down at one of the small tables.
At a table near by sat Randolph Briggs. Looking up by chance, he was astonished to see his father’s penniless ward in such company.