"You will always do what is right," said Maddie. "And I will ask Mrs Judkin to come and help me iron your things," and she ran out of the room, it might possibly have been to hide the tears rising in her eyes.
Maddie was still very young; she had not before parted from Lance, even for a day, and had as yet experienced none of the trials of life. She would have felt the same had Lance been her brother; she scarcely recognised the fact that he was not.
The day of parting came. Mrs Loughton was unable to leave the house.
She clasped her boy to her heart, and blessed him, committing him to the charge of One all able and willing to protect those who confide in His love. Maddie, attended by Mrs Judkin, whose husband wheeled his portmanteau, accompanied Lance to the railway station, and her last tender, loving glance still seemed following him long after the train had rushed off along its iron way.
Perhaps now for the first time he realised how completely his future hopes of happiness depended on her. With manly resolution, and firm confidence in the goodness of G.o.d, he prepared, as he had often said he would, to do his duty.
He safely reached his uncle"s house, where he received a kindly welcome from his aunt and a number of young cousins. They looked at him approvingly; he was likely to become a favourite with them.
"I think you will get on with Gaisford," said his uncle after the conclusion of dinner. "He is an honest man, and a Christian, and feels that he has responsibilities which many are not apt to acknowledge. I will say no more about him. You tell me you wish to do your duty; and therefore all I can say to you is, to try and ascertain what that duty is, and to do it."
At an early hour the next morning Mr Durrant accompanied his nephew to Mr Gaisford"s office. The princ.i.p.al had not arrived. His head clerk scrutinised Lance from under his spectacles for a few seconds.
Apparently satisfied, his countenance relaxed.
"We can find work for him," he observed, after Lance had been duly introduced; "and as you have to be at your office you can leave him here, and the time need not hang heavily on his hand till Mr Gaisford arrives."
Mr Durrant, promising to call for his nephew on his way home, hurried off.
Lance had at once a draft placed before him to copy. He wrote a clear, bold hand. Mr Brown, the head clerk, watched him for a minute.
"That will do--go on," he said, and returned to his seat.
The draft was finished just as Mr Gaisford arrived. The clerk took it in his hand, telling Lance to follow him to their princ.i.p.al"s room.
While introducing him, he placed it on the table, and withdrew.
Mr Gaisford, a middle-aged man, slightly grey, with a pleasant expression of countenance, having glanced over the paper, turned round and addressed Lance kindly.
"Sit down," he said. "Your uncle has told me something about you, but I should like to hear more. Where were you at school?"
Lance told him.
"You were the head boy, I understand."
He then asked what books he had read, and a variety of other questions, to which Lance answered modestly and succinctly. He then handed the paper back to Lance, to give it to Mr Brown, who would find him something more to do.
"This is written as well as it could be," he observed. "I always like to have my work well done, and I can depend upon your doing it to the best of your ability."
"That is what I wish to do," said Lance, taking the paper and bowing as he left the room.
He had plenty of work during the morning. Mr Brown asked him to come out and take a chop with him at one o"clock.
The head clerk was never long absent from the office, as he might be wanted, and he made it a rule never to keep clients waiting longer than he could help.
"Time is money, my young friend," he observed. "We should never squander other people"s time more than our own."
Lance worked hard till his uncle arrived just at the usual hour for closing the office. Mr Gaisford had gone away some time before.
"He has done very well, sir," observed Mr Brown as Mr Durrant entered; "and what is more, I feel sure he will do as well every day he is here."
He and his uncle walked home together. Mr Durrant told him that his employer promised to give him a salary at once should the head clerk make a favourable report of him.
"That he will do that, I am confident, from what he has said."
Lance felt very happy, and wrote home in good spirits, giving a satisfactory account of the commencement of his career in London.
He generally accompanied his uncle to and from the office, but he soon learned to find the way by himself. He always went directly there and back, refraining from wandering elsewhere to see the great city which to him was still an unknown land. He was very happy in his new home, and on his return each day he was greeted by his young cousins with shouts of pleasure. Lance was never tired of trying to amuse them.
With intense satisfaction Lance received his first quarter"s salary. He took it immediately to his uncle.
"This should be yours, sir," he said, "though I fear it is not sufficient to repay you for the expense to which you have been put on my account."
His uncle smiled.
"I think you must settle that with your aunt; and if she finds her household expenses much increased, you shall pay the difference: to the room you occupy you are welcome."
Lance received back the greater portion of the sum he placed in his aunt"s hands, and immediately forwarded it to his mother.
The balance from next quarter, however, was somewhat less, as he had to pay for a few articles of clothing. His mother begged that he would not send her any more, as she was sure he would soon require considerable additions to his wardrobe. He, however, resolved to be very economical, and with the a.s.sistance of Mr Brown, who knew where everything was to be got the cheapest and best, he found that he still had a fair sum left to forward for the use of the loved ones at Elmerston.
"Pay ready money," observed his friend the clerk. "Owe no man anything; it"s a golden rule, and a.s.sists to give a good digestion in the day, and sound sleep at night."
Some time after this Mr Gaisford sent for Lance into his room, and put a doc.u.ment into his hand.
"Here, my young friend," he said, "are your articles. Your mother is a widow with limited means, and has, moreover, not only brought you up well, but supported an orphan relative, so I understand. Such as she has claims on one like me, who am a bachelor with an ample fortune.
Such claims I must recognise, for I am sure G.o.d does, whatever the rest of the world may think. I say this to set you at your ease about the matter. You have done your duty hitherto, and I am sure you will continue to do it. Your salary will be increased from the commencement of this quarter."
Lance"s heart was too full to thank his kind benefactor as he wished.
He tried to express his grat.i.tude; at all events, Mr Gaisford understood him.
From that time forward it was evident that he rose still more in the estimation of one who was a keen judge of character.
CHAPTER FIVE.
Lance had been more than a year in London, and having been frequently sent with papers to clients in all directions, he learned his way about the City and West End.
During the first autumn vacation, as it was soon after his arrival, he had not gone home. He was looking forward to a visit before the close of the following summer. He kept up, however, a frequent correspondence with his mother and Maddie. His greatest pleasure was receiving their letters.
Mr Brown continued his friend, as at first, and took pains to initiate him into the mysteries of his profession.
He was one evening in the West End, near the Park, having been sent after office hours to a client"s house with the draft of a will. He had performed his commission, and had just left the house, when he encountered a young man, dressed in the height of the fashion, with a gold-headed cane in his hand. The other stopped and looked at him, exclaiming as he did so--
"Upon my word, I believe you are Lance Loughton!" and Lance recognised his former schoolfellow.
"What! Dulman?" he said, unconsciously scanning him from head to foot.
"I did not know what had become of you; I thought you were engaged in business somewhere."
"Hush, hush, my dear fellow! let me ask you not to call me by that odious name. I am Emery Delamere on this side of Temple Bar. I had been sent to call on a lady of fashion about a little affair of my employers, and embraced the opportunity of taking a stroll in the Park, in the hopes of meeting some of my acquaintances. You, I conclude, are bound eastward; so am I. We will proceed together, though I wish you had got rid of a little more of your rustic appearance. And now tell me all about yourself. Where are you? Who are you employed with? What are your prospects?"