OWEN sprang up and acknowledged the relationship, following the girl through the back of the shop, upstairs to a pleasant room, where tea was already spread.
"Father is busy with Dawson just for a few minutes," she said, "but mother will be here presently. Oh, there she is. Mother, here is Owen; where is he to sleep?"
"In the little room at the top of the stairs," replied a middle-aged, active-looking woman, who stood before Owen, without giving him a word of greeting, saying, critically, "You look pretty capable; are you willing to work?"
"Oh yes, ma'am; I will do anything I can."
"That is right," said Clarice, kindly; "come, I will show you your room, and you can wash your hands and face, and then come down to tea. I expect you want something after your journey."
Owen looked gratefully at his cousin as he carried his box upstairs after her. The little room in which she left him was dreary and cold, so different to his pretty little bedroom at home, which his father had made so cheerful and pleasant. But Owen was determined not to look on the dark side. He peeped out of the window; it looked down on the busy street, and the tops of the houses. As far as he could see were house-tops, and he wondered how far off the country could be. He felt a little sore at his aunt's cool manner, and was almost inclined to cry, as he turned to the washstand to follow his cousin's suggestion. The cold water refreshed him, and things looked brighter when he made his way down to the parlour, and found only Clarice waiting for him.
"You and I will have tea by ourselves," she said, cheerfully; "father is not ready yet, and mother has gone down to him. Would you like a slice of ham? Here is bread, and a nice hot cup of tea. I wonder how you will like the town."
So Clarice chatted away, trying to make the boy at home. The warm tea revived him, and his cousin's kindness won his heart, so that when she said, "I am so glad you have come, I know we shall be good friends," he was able to respond, "Yes, I am glad too; you are good and pretty."
Clarice laughed. "Nobody ever told me that before. I have to work too hard to be pretty. Father and mother let no one be idle. We must do all we can to make a fortune." But she said it somewhat bitterly, and Owen did not know how to reply, though he said, after a pause, "Don't you want to make a fortune?"
"I would rather enjoy what money we have," said Clarice. "What is the good of going on heaping up money all your life, and never enjoying what it brings at all?"