I opened Smith’s letter first. It was very short.
“Dear Fred,—I hear to-day I have got the situation. I’m afraid that means you have missed it. I’m awfully sorry, old boy, that’s all I can say. I hope in any case you will come to London. I’ll write again. Ever yours,—Jack.”
I flung down the letter in a whirl of mingled feelings. That Jack Smith had got the situation I could not help being glad. But that I had lost it was simply crushing. Although I had kept reminding myself all along in words that the chances were very remote, I yet discovered how I had at heart been reckoning on my success almost to a certainty. And now I was utterly floored.
All this was the first hurried impression caused on my mind by my friend Smith’s letter; and for a minute I quite forgot, in my mortification, that I had in my hand another letter—a letter from Merrett, Barnacle, and Company themselves. Then suddenly remembering it, I called to mind also the vague rumour of two clerks being wanted in the office, and with new hope and wild anxiety I tore open the envelope.
Could I believe my eyes?
“Frederick Batchelor is informed that his application for junior clerkship is successful. He will be required to begin work on Monday next at 9 a.m.”
For the space of two minutes, reader, I knew not if I was standing on my head or my feet. I will pass over the excited day or two which followed. My uncle, of course, did what he could to check my glee. He said Merrett, Barnacle, and Company must be easily pleased, but they would soon find out their mistake, and that I might as well make up my mind to be dismissed after the first fortnight, and so on. I didn’t take it much to heart; and after the first gush did not trouble my relative much with my prospects.
I was, however, a little curious to know what proposal he would make about my board and lodging in the great metropolis, which, after all, was a matter of some little consequence to me.
He did not see fit to relieve my anxiety on this point until the very eve of my departure from Brownstroke, when he said, abruptly, “You will be gone before I’m down to-morrow, Frederick. Don’t forget the train starts at two minutes before six. I have arranged for you to lodge with Mrs Nash, whose address is on this card. There will be time to take your trunk round there before you go to your work. For the present I shall pay for your lodging.”
“Shall I get my meals there?” I ventured to ask.