Certain
business telegrams followed him home, which required the writing of two
or three business letters.
"It will not take me long," he explained to his wife, "and they are not
complicated affairs, so I give you leave to talk right on while I
dispatch them." She laughed at this hint about her fondness for talk,
but presently made use of the privilege.
"Evan, what sort of a young man do you consider Mr. Ried?"
"Ried? Who? Oh, my clerk? The very best sort; a most estimable
fellow,--one of a thousand. By the way, did you tell him how you became
interested in that sister of his?"
"Not yet; I want to get better acquainted. But, Evan, do you know where
he boards?"
Hardly; on Third Avenue somewhere, I believe; or possibly Second. The
store register would show. Do you want his address!"
"Oh, I know _where_ it is; but I mean what sort of a place is it?"
Mr. Roberts slightly elevated his shapely shoulders.
"It is a boarding-house, where many clerks board; that tells a doleful
story to the initiated, I suspect. Poor fare and dismal surroundings;
still, it is eminently respectable."
"Where does he spend his Sabbaths?"
The rapidly-moving pen executed nearly two lines of handsome writing
before Mr.
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