About nine o’clock that evening Gilbert’s trunk arrived. He received it with satisfaction, and unpacked it at once, putting a part of his clothing into the drawers of a small bureau, which, with the bedstead and one chair, took up about all the space in his contracted chamber.

Mr. Ingalls stepped in as he was unpacking.

“You haven’t got much extra room,” he said.

“No, I wish my room was larger,” said Gilbert; “but it is as large as I can afford.”

“My room is at least twice as large, but by sharing it with another I pay no more than you do.”

“You are in luck; that is, if your room-mate is agreeable.”

“We get along very well, but I expect to lose him in a week. He is to leave the city. If you would like to take his place, I shall be glad to have you.”

“Will it increase my board?” asked Gilbert.

“How much do you pay now?”

“Six dollars.”

“No; you would pay the same as my room-mate.”

“Then I will accept your offer with thanks.”

“I hope you won’t have cause to repent it,” said Mr. Ingalls. “If you do at any time I will let you off.”

“If you should marry Miss Brintnall,” suggested Gilbert, with a smile, “you will have to give me warning.”

“No Miss Brintnall for me!” said Ingalls. “I don’t want to be a henpecked husband, or marry one who would insist on wearing the breeches.”

“The lady seems partial to you.”

“She is not only partial, but martial,” said the young man, who was apt to indulge in poor jokes; “I would as soon marry an Amazon. When you get through unpacking, come to my room; you may like to see it.”

“I have unpacked as much as I intend to to-night. I will go with you now.”

Mr. Ingalls’ room was square in shape, and of very good dimensions; it was better furnished also than Gilbert’s. It contained two single beds, side by side, a good closet, a sofa, a bureau, rocking-chair, and several ordinary chairs. Several fair engravings adorned the walls, and Gilbert felt that it would be decidedly pleasanter for him to share such a room as this with a pleasant companion, than to reign sole master of a hall bedroom.

“How do you like it?” asked Mr. Ingalls.

“Very much better than mine. I shall be glad to change.”

“Then we will consider the arrangement decided upon. Can I offer you a cigarette?”

“No, thank you; I never smoke.”

“That is where you are sensible; I only indulge myself occasionally.”

They sat for half an hour and chatted. Gilbert was favorably impressed by his new friend, who, though ten years older than himself, proved a congenial companion. At ten o’clock he bade him good-night, and went to bed.

His bed was not particularly soft or luxurious, but he slept soundly, and awoke in the morning refreshed. He took an early breakfast, and walked down-town with Mr. Ingalls.

When Mr. Moore, the book-keeper, arrived, Gilbert was already at work.

“A new broom sweeps clean,” sneered Moore, in an unpleasant tone.

“Do you mean me?” asked Gilbert.

“Yes; you are trying to make Mr. Sands think you a model.”

“I hope he won’t think that, for he will find out his mistake.”

“He will find out his mistake,” said Moore; “I predict that.”

“I intend to do my work faithfully,” said Gilbert; “there will be no mistake about that.”

“I’ve heard boys talk that way before. They don’t deceive me.”

Just then Mr. Sands entered. He greeted Gilbert pleasantly.

“So you are on hand in good season. I like to see that.”

“I shall try not to be late, sir.”

“Where do you board?”

“In Waverly Place.”

“That is convenient as regards distance. You may go to the Post Office for letters.”

As Gilbert started for the Post Office, a boy about his own age came up and joined him.

“Are you Mr. Sands’ new boy?” he asked.

“Yes,” answered Gilbert.

“You’ve got my place, then. I used to be there.”

“Did you? I am sorry to have interfered with you.”

“You won’t like it. He is very hard to get along with.”

“He doesn’t look like it.”

“He discharged me for just nothing at all. That’s what my cousin, the book-keeper, says.”

“Is Mr. Moore your cousin?” asked Gilbert, who began now to understand the cause of his own unpopularity with that official.

“Yes; he lives at our house.”

Gilbert said nothing, judging that it would be repeated.

“I hope you will get another place,” he said, politely.

“I don’t want another place. I want to be where my cousin is.”

Gilbert felt rather awkward.

“That is natural,” he said; “I am sorry you are disappointed, but, of course, I am glad to get a place. I have to shift for myself, and it is necessary I should be earning money.”

“You won’t stay long; old Sands will discharge you.”

“I hope not. If I do my duty faithfully, I don’t see why he should.”

“That won’t make any difference. Didn’t I discharge my duty faithfully?”

Gilbert did not know, and expressed no opinion. Moreover, he thought he would not inquire, preferring to remain neutral. Besides, he doubted whether he could fully rely on the correctness of John’s statements.

“I don’t want to lose my place,” he said; “but if I do, I hope you will get it back again.”

“Suppose you resign in my favor,” suggested John, in an insinuating manner.

“I would rather not,” answered Gilbert, who felt that this request was decidedly cool.

“Just as I thought,” muttered John.

“Mr. Sands would not thank me for meddling with what is not my business. If he chooses, at any time, to put you back and dismiss me, he’ll do so without any request from me.”

John did not vouchsafe an answer, but walked off sullenly.

Nothing of any importance occurred during the day, except that Gilbert found the book-keeper as disagreeable as ever. It seemed impossible to suit him. This Gilbert correctly attributed to his disappointment that his cousin had been superseded.

About the hour of closing, Gilbert was surprised at the entrance of Mr. Briggs.

“How are you getting on, Gilbert?” he inquired.

“Very well, thank you, sir.”

“Do you think you shall like this place?”

“Yes, sir, I think so.”

“And you don’t regret leaving school?”

“Yes, sir, I do; but that can’t be helped, and I don’t trouble myself with thinking of it.”

“You are right there; are you ready to go up town?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Come along with me, then.”

When they were in the street, Mr. Briggs said, “I will tell you in a few words what I mean to do for you, so that you can have a fair understanding about money matters. I shall pay your board, and out of your wages you will be able to buy your clothes and provide for your other expenses.”

“But, Mr. Briggs,” said Gilbert, “I shall be able to pay part of my board. I do not wish to be such a burden to you.”

“Say no more about it,” said his guardian, hastily, “I insist upon that arrangement.”

“But, sir, I shall want sometime to repay you for the money you spend on me.”

“When you are a rich man, I will permit you to do so. Till then, think nothing of it.”

“I am at least very grateful to you for your kindness,” said Gilbert.

For some reason Mr. Briggs seemed uncomfortable whenever Gilbert spoke of gratitude, and tried to drop the subject.

“Randolph spoke of calling to see you this evening,” he said. “Shall you be at home?”

“Yes, sir, I shall be glad to have him come.”

Gilbert was rather astonished at such a mark of attention on the part of the young aristocrat, but determined to treat him cordially, for his father’s sake.