“No; not counting him.”
“You've seen Rose Hartley, of course, Mr. Liddel?” cried Tom. “Sweet girl, ain't she? Harry Netterville is rather smitten in that quarter.'
“Then give him the chance of meeting her,” said his father.
Thereupon Tom disappeared.
After an early dinner with the Tankards, Walter betook himself to Spencer's Rents, and saw Rose, who was alone in the little parlour. Evidently she regarded him with more interest than she had done.
“My mother has told me all about you, Mr. Liddel,” she said, “at least, all she knows, and I feel exceedingly sorry for you. But I hope all will soon be right. I am neither old enough nor wise enough to give you advice, nor is it right or proper for me to do so, but I am sorry you are thinking of becoming a footman. I feel quite sure you are a gentleman—”
“I have been one,” interrupted Walter. “But I have no money, and must do something. The offer was made me, and I accepted it. Any honest employment is respectable.”
“So it is, undoubtedly. What I fear is that you may hereafter regret having taken the step.”
“I can leave if I don't like the employment. But I must say you talk very sensibly, Miss Rose. I wish I had had such a counsellor a year or two ago, before I committed my worst follies.”
“You wouldn't have listened to me,” she replied, shaking her head.