"No, she isn't Uncle True," said Willie; "you'd think so part of the time, to hear her run on with her nonsense; and then, the next minute, she'd speak as sensible as anybody, and say how much obliged she was to me for being willing to put myself to so much trouble for the sake of an old woman like her. Just as we turned into Beacon Street we met a school of girls, blooming beauties, handsome enough to kill, my old lady called them; and when they came in sight, she seemed to take it for granted I should get away from her, and run after some of them. But she held on with a vengeance! It's lucky I had no idea of forsaking her, for it would have been impossible! Some of them stopped and stared at us—of course I didn't care how much they stared; but she seemed to think I should be terribly mortified; and when we had passed them all, she complimented me again and again on my spirit of conformity, her favourite expression."
Here Willie was out of breath. True clapped him upon the shoulder. "Good boy, Willie?" said he, "clever boy! You always look out for the old folks, and that's right. Respect for the aged is a good thing; though your grandfather says it's very much out of fashion."
"I don't know much about fashion, Uncle True; but I should think it was a pretty mean sort of a boy that would see an old lady get one fall on the ice, and not save her from another by seeing her safe home."
"Willie's always kind to everybody," said Gerty.
"Willie's either a hero," said the boy, "or else he has got two pretty good friends—I rather think it's the latter. But, come, Gerty, Charles the Twelfth is waiting for us, and we must study as much as we can to-night. We may not have another chance very soon, for Mr. Bray isn't well this evening; he seems threatened with a fever, and I promised to go back to the shop after dinner to-morrow. If he should be sick, I shall have plenty to do without coming home at all."
"Oh, I hope Mr. Bray is not going to have a fever," said True and Gerty, in the same breath.
"He's such a clever man!" said True.
"He's so good to you, Willie!" added Gerty.
Willie hoped not, too; but his hopes gave way to his fears, when he found on the following day that his kind master was not able to leave his bed, and the doctor pronounced his symptoms alarming. A typhoid fever set in, which in a few days terminated the life of the excellent apothecary.
The death of Mr. Bray was a dreadful blow to Willie. The shop was closed, the widow having decided to dispose of the stock, and remove into the country. Willie was thus left without employment, and deprived of Mr. Bray's valuable assistance. His earnings had promoted the comfort of his mother and grandfather, who had thus been enabled to relax their own labours. The thought of being a burden to them was intolerable to the independent spirit of the boy; and he tried to obtain another place. He applied to the different apothecaries in the city, but none of them wanted a youth of his age. He returned home at night, disappointed, but not discouraged. If he could not obtain employment with an apothecary, he would do something else. But what should he do? That was the question. He had long talks with his mother about it. She felt that his talents and education entitled him to fill a position equal to that he had already occupied; and could not endure the thought of his descending to more menial service. Willie, without pride, thought so too. He knew he could give satisfaction in a station which required more business talent than his situation at Mr. Bray's had ever given scope to. So he had made every possible inquiry, but he had no one to speak a good word for him, and so he met with no success, and day after day returned home silent and depressed.