At once the clerk became more obsequious, and begged Will to be seated. He watched the man whom he knew to be the son of a local store-keeper, go to a glass door and rap upon it gently. Then he entered and closed the door carefully behind him, only to emerge the next moment and beckon Will to advance.
“Mr. Williams will see you at once, sir.”
Will walked into the private office feeling queer and uncomfortable, and the clerk closed the door behind him.
Mr. Williams was sitting at his desk, but at once jumped up and met the boy with both hands extended to a cordial greeting.
“I’m glad to see you, Will Carden,” he said, simply. “My little girl is very dear to me, and I owe you more than I can ever repay.”
“Why, Nan’s dear to me, too, Mr. Williams,” replied the youth, feeling quite at ease again. “And I’m glad and grateful that I happened to be around just when she needed me. We’re in the same class at high school, you know, and Annabel and I have always been chums.”
“That’s good,” said the great man, nodding as if he understood. “I hope you will be better friends than ever, now. She wants to see you, and Mrs. Williams has asked me to send you up to the house, if you will go.”
Will flushed with pleasure. To be invited to the big house by the very woman who had snubbed him a few months ago was indeed a triumph. He didn’t suspect, of course, that Mr. Williams had kept his promise to the children, and “talked to” his wife with such energy that she was not likely soon again to banish one of their playmates because he chanced to be poor. Indeed, Mrs. Williams had no especial dislike to the “vegetable boy;” she merely regarded him as a member of a class to be avoided, and her sole objection to him as a companion to her children was based upon a snobbish and vulgar assumption of superiority to those not blessed with money.
“I’ll be glad to see Annabel again,” said Will. “I hope she’s none the worse for her accident?”
“Just a slight cold, that’s all. But sit down, please. I want a little talk with you about—yourself.”