How I dwelt on the injustice of that task! It was one which seemed to give Mr Grimstone great satisfaction, for it took my inexperienced fingers many weeks, and I had to toil very hard. But all the same, it was no waste of time, for it gave me dexterity in handling type such as I should not otherwise have had. I had suffered a great deal from anxiety lest some morning Mr Blakeford should step into the office and claim me; for, unpleasant as were my dealings with Mr Grimstone, Jem Smith, and through the latter with several of the other boys, I thoroughly enjoyed my present existence. Revitts was very kind, and, in spite of his sharp abruptness, I did not dislike quaint old Mr Jabez Rowle, who seemed never to be happy unless he was correcting proofs. My dread arose from the thought that Revitts might in some communication to Mary be the cause of her naming my whereabouts to the lawyer. Then I was afraid that Mr Ruddle might write down and make inquiries. Lastly, that Mr Jabez Rowle might mention me in writing to his brother. But I grew more reassured as it became evident that Mr Ruddle had not written, while Mr Jabez Rowle said one day, just in the middle of some corrections: "Ah, I'm very fond of Peter, so I never write to him." Then, too, I found that Mr Revitts never wrote to Mary without, in a half-bashful way, showing me the letter. "Lookye here," he would say, "we said we'd help one another, lad. Some o' these days you'll want to write such a letter as this here, and so you may as well see how it's done. Then you can just shove your pen through where the spellin' ain't quite square, and I'll write it out again. I don't know as it's quite right to let her get thinking as I'm such a tip-topper at spellin', but she came the same game with me over the writing, making me think as she'd improved wonderful, when it was you; so it's six o' one and half-a-dozen o' t'other. What do you say?" "I don't think Mary meant to deceive you, Bill," I said. "Poor girl, she had to work very hard, and her hands were not used to holding a pen. I don't suppose she ever thought of saying who wrote for her. There's nothing to be ashamed of in trying to improve your spelling." "No, there ain't, is there, lad?" "Nothing at all. Mr Hallett says we go on learning all our lives." "Hah! I suppose we do. What would you do then?" "I should tell Mary I helped you." "So I will--so I will," he said, in his quiet simple way; for as sure as the subject _Mary_ was in question, all William Revitts' sharp police-constable ways dropped off, and he was as simple and smiling as a child. "Give my love to her, Bill," I said. He looked heavily and steadily at me for a few moments, and then in a very stupid way he began: "I say, youngster, do you think Mary is fond of you?" "I'm sure she is--very," I said. He fidgeted in his chair, and then continued: "And you like her?"