"Ah! Writing tolerably good. Not a bad style; improvement will come by industry. I think you have that, Timothy Chance." "I think I have, sir." "Three mistakes in spelling. Bunglers is not spelled b u n g e l. Inheritance is not spelled without an h and with two e's in the last syllable. Judicious is not spelled j e w. For the rest, all right. A bit of arithmetic, eh?" "Yes, sir." "Be ready with your pen and paper. I buy a parcel of twenty-eight books at auction for three and sixpence; three I sell for waste-paper, sixteen at twopence each, five at threepence each, two at fourpence, and one for a shilling. What's the result?" "You lay out three and sixpence, sir," said Timothy, almost instantaneously; he was sharp at most things, but especially sharp at figures; "and you get back five and sevenpence. Two and a penny profit." "Quite right. Anything else?" "The three books you sell for waste-paper will bring in something; perhaps they're big ones." "Perhaps they're little ones. We won't reckon them. Anything else?" "You bought twenty-eight books, sir; you only gave me twenty-seven to figure out. One short, sir." "That was stolen, Timothy." "Where from, sir?" "From the stall outside." "It couldn't have been, sir, if you had a sharp boy to attend to it for you." "Ah! The question is, where to find that particularly sharp boy?" "He's handy, sir, almost at your elbow." Now, although these words betokened a certain confidence and were spoken with a certain boldness, it is a fact that there was a tremor in Timothy's voice as he uttered them. The conversation between him and Mr. Loveday had been strangely in accordance with his earnest desire to be taken into Mr. Loveday's service. He had been upheld by this hope as he tramped from Essex after the schoolhouse had been burned down, and he had hurried back to London more swiftly than he would have done without it. Mr. Loveday ruminated; Timothy Chance waited anxiously. "I'm rather a peculiar fellow, Timothy," said Mr. Loveday, presently; "not at all unpleasant out of business, unless you quarrel with my social crotchets, and you're not old enough to do that yet, Timothy, but very strict in business matters, however trifling. That fowl of yours is beginning to crow, Timothy." "It's all right, sir," said Timothy, in a tone of wistful expectation, "please finish." "This strictness of mine in business matters may make me a hard master; I haven't tried my hand in that line much, as I've always attended to my shop myself, but I will not deny that I'm half inclined to engage a lad." "Make it a whole mind, sir, and engage me." Timothy's occasionally apt replies tickled and pleased Mr. Loveday; they betokened a kind of cleverness which he appreciated. "As we stand now," continued Mr. Loveday, "man and boy, not master and servant, we have a mutual respect for each other." "Thank you, sir." "It would be a pity to weaken this feeling." "It might be made stronger, sir."