He ascended the steps, and inquired, on the door being opened, if Mr.
Preston was at home.
"I'll see," said the servant.
She returned in a short time, and said: "He says you may come upstairs."
Paul followed the servant, who pointed out a door at the head of the
first staircase.
Paul knocked, and, hearing "Come in" from within, he opened the door and
entered.
He found himself in a spacious chamber, handsomely furnished. Mr.
Preston, in dressing-gown and slippers, sat before a cheerful, open
fire.
"Come and sit down by the fire," he said, sociably.
"Thank you, sir, I am warm with walking," and Paul took a seat near the
door.
"I am one of the cold kind," said Mr. Preston, "and have a fire earlier
than most people. You come about the shirts, I suppose?"
"Yes, sir."
"Will your mother undertake them?"
"With pleasure, sir. She can no longer get work from the shop."
"Business dull, I suppose?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then I am glad I thought of giving her the commission. How's business
with you to-day, eh?"
"Pretty good, sir."
"How many neckties did you sell?"
"Nineteen, sir."
"And how much do you get for that?"
"Nine shillings and a half--a dollar and eighteen cents."
"That's pretty good for a boy like you. When I was of your age I was
working on a farm for my board and clothes."
"Were you, sir?" asked Paul, interested.
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