eighteen. He was to enter on the morrow.
"Where do you live?" curtly questioned Mr. Stroud.
"Just beyond Kennington."
"Take care that you are punctual. Nine o'clock is the hour for the copying-clerks. You are expected to be at work by that time, therefore you must get here before the clock strikes."
A very easy condition, as it seemed to Charles Raynor, in his elation. A copying-clerk in a lawyer's office at fifteen or eighteen shillings a-week! Had any one told him a year ago that he would be capable of accepting so degrading a post—as he would then have deemed it—he had surely said the world must first turn itself upside down. Now he went home with a joyous step and a light heart, hardly knowing whether he trod on his head or his heels.
And at Laurel Cottage they held quite a jubilee. Fifteen shillings a-week added to the narrow income of