Part 24 (1/2)

His companion waited with flus.h.i.+ng cheek and eager eyes until the last letter was written; then he sprang up with an energy that set the arm-chair upside down, and uttered a vehement:

”Good! Jim, oh Jim, I could shout for joy. I have fairly held my breath for fear you would not reach the point.”

Jim laughed.

”What a fanatic you are!” he said in a tone of a.s.sumed carelessness.

”How do you know I won't break it to-morrow?”

”I know perfectly well. If I had not I should not have been so anxious to have you sign to-night. You happen to be as set in _your_ way as an acre of stone fences.”

More talk ensued--eager, future plannings. Those two young men, very unlike in many respects, yet a.s.similated on a few strong points.

Theodore had constantly kept a hold on his early friend--at first because of the dear old mother, and finally because his stronger nature drawing out and in a measure toning Jim's, the two had grown less apart than seemed at first probable.

It wanted but twenty minutes to eight when the young men left the room where important business not only for time, but, as it came to pa.s.s, for eternity, had been settled, and hurried, the one to the Euclid House, and the other around the corner toward the great dry-goods house on the main business street. He stopped first though at the cozy little white house, moved with eager steps up the walk, flung open the side door, and spoke in tones full of suppressed excitement to the old lady, who was nodding over her large print Testament, Jim's birthday gift.

”Grandma, I have a present for you.” And a crisp paper was produced and laid on the page of the open Bible. A glance showed it to be a temperance pledge--another look, a start, a filling of the dim old eyes with tears as the beloved name, James H. McPherson, swam before her vision, and true to her faith her loving voice gave utterance to her full heart:

”'While they are yet speaking I will hear.' I was just speaking to him again, don't you think, about that very thing. Oh the Lord bless him and help him. Now, deary, we won't be content with this, will we?”

Theodore shook his head emphatically.

”He must come over _entirely_ to the Lord's side,” he said, smiling, ”now that he has come half way.”

The city clock was giving the last stroke of eight as Theodore was ushered into the private office of Mr. Stephens. That gentleman arose to greet him with a smile of satisfaction, and then ensued another business talk, and the drift of it can be drawn from these concluding sentences:

”Well, sir,” from Mr. Stephens to Theodore, as the latter arose to go, ”how soon may I expect you? How long is it going to take you to get your business in shape to leave? We need help as soon as possible.”

”I will be on hand to-morrow morning, sir.”

”What! ready for work? How is it possible that you have dispatched matters so rapidly?”

”Why,” said Theodore, ”from two o'clock until eight gives one six good hours in which to dispatch business.”

And Mr. Stephens, as they went down the great store together, smiled again and said to himself:

”I don't believe I have mistaken my man.”

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER XVII.

TRANSLATIONS.

There was an evening party at the house of the Rev. John Birge. Not one of those grand crushes, where every body is cross and warm and uncomfortable generally, but a cozy little gathering of young ladies and gentlemen, people whom the minister desired to see come into more social contact with each other. Among the number was Miss Dora Hastings. Dora still continued to come to Sunday-school, although she had arrived at that mysterious age when young ladies are apt to be too old for anything reasonable; but Dora, for some unaccountable reason, so at least her mother thought, clung to her little girl habits, and went to Sunday-school; so she chanced to be numbered among the guests at Mr.

Birge's party. Pliny was also invited but had chosen not to come, so Ben Phillips had supplied his place as escort, and stood now chatting with her when a new arrival was announced.

Mrs. Birge came to the end of the room where Dora stood, and with her a young gentleman.