But we all know that it is easier to bring enthusiasm and energy to the commencement of a new routine than to maintain it day after day and week after week. Oscar had never liked the routine work of the office, and latterly he had had a good deal of it. The senior clerk had died rather suddenly in September, and his place had not been filled. Oscar had been given a part of his work, and North had lent his energies to filling the gap. It had made the office work heavier than had been the case at first, though Oscar had been glad to help his uncle in the emergency, and even Cyril had sometimes come down and offered his services.
Gradually Oscar had come to be looked upon as head of the office under North. The other clerks, if not younger, were less responsible, and looked to him as being a relative of Mr. Cossart’s. This was pleasant in a way, but it kept Oscar more to his desk than he had expected, and the contrast to his old life of freedom was sometimes keenly felt.
He was not very robust, and the cold damp winter tried him. There had been little severe frost, but a wet, dank fog had hung about, with drizzling rain or sleety snow. He had to turn out in all weathers, and had not time or energy for exercise of a more exhilarating character than the daily walk to the office. So that he drooped somewhat as the winter wore away, and felt little spring for anything beyond his daily round.
However, the week’s work was now finished, and he was just contemplating closing the office when his uncle came quickly in, a look of vexation upon his face.
He had some papers in his hand, and one of these he threw down upon the desk before the young man, saying in a vexed tone—
“Look there, Oscar! What does this mean? Here is that bill come in a second time from Jones and Wright, and I gave you the money to pay it with in October. They are a small firm, and I never keep them waiting for payment. What does it mean?”
Oscar looked at the bill, pondered a moment, for many bills went through his hands now, and his memory was not very strong for detail; then a flash of enlightenment seemed to come upon him, and he exclaimed—
“Oh, I remember now. You gave me the money in cash. But, uncle, the bill was paid, and I have the receipt, and it’s all checked off in the books. I will show you.”
Oscar got down the file and ledger, found the place in the latter, where the entry had been made, and produced the former bill duly receipted.
Mr. Tom looked at it, and compared it with the paper on the desk.