“I could never keep it up, I fear,” said I; “but I’d try.”
“Thank you, sir. You draw your salary weekly, I believe?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Oh, then, if I just look in and see one of the principals and explain, he’ll stop the three shillings a week for me, which will save all trouble. What time are they generally at home?”
The cool resolve of the man to make my employers a party to my debt positively terrified me. I begged him to give up the idea, promised wildly to do all sorts of things to pay him, and entreated him to give me more time.
He was politely inexorable. “Pleased to oblige you, but, after a year, we must look after our little accounts, mustn’t we? Let’s see, to-morrow I’m engaged. I’ll look in on Friday and settle it.”
No argument or entreaty of mine could make him understand such a step would be ruination to me. He was firmly convinced a guarantee from the firm would be the best security for his money, and so, simply disregarding all my protests and appeals, gaily promised to see me again on Friday.
What was I to do? My only hope was in my uncle’s answer, and that, as the reader knows, was small enough.
The following morning it arrived. It was brief, and to the point:—
“Dear Nephew,—I hold that lads of your age cannot learn too soon that the people to pay debts are those who make them. I return your list, as it may be useful.