After his collision with the traveler, Herbert hurried on to the mill, intent upon making up for lost time. He was satisfied with having successfully maintained his rights; and, as he had no reason to suppose he should ever again see his unreasonable opponent, dismissed him from his thoughts.
On reaching the mill, he found he should have to remain an hour or two before he could have his grain ground. He was not sorry for this, as it would give him an opportunity to walk around the village.
“I wish,” he thought, “I could get a place in one of the stores here. There's more going on than there is in Waverley, and I could go over Sundays to see Dr. Kent's family.”
On the spur of the moment, he resolved to inquire if some of the storekeepers did not require help. There was a large dry-goods store—the largest in the village—kept by Beckford & Keyes. He entered and inquired for the senior partner.
“Mr. Beckford is not in,” said the clerk. “Mr. Keyes is standing at that desk.”
Herbert went up to the desk, and said inquiringly, “Mr. Keyes?”
“That is my name,” said that gentleman, pleasantly. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“I am in search of a place,” said our hero, “and I thought you might have a vacancy here.”
“We have none just at present,” said Mr. Keyes, who was favorably impressed by Herbert's appearance; “but it is possible we may have in a few weeks. Where do you live? Not in the village, I suppose?”
“No, sir,” said Herbert, and a shadow passed over his face, “My mother died three weeks since, and I am now stopping at the house of Dr. Kent.”