It was beginning to be daylight in the city of Boston; and as the gray east gradually brightened and grew red in the coming of day, a young man looked out upon the busy world around him, with that feeling of utter loneliness which one so often feels in a great city where all is new and strange to him.  Scarcely four weeks had passed since the notes of a tolling bell had fallen sadly upon his ear, and he had looked into a grave where they laid his mother to her last dreamless rest.  A prevailing fever had effected what the fancied ailments of years had failed to do, and Billy Bender was now an orphan, and alone in the wide world.  He knew that he had his own fortune to make, and after settling his mother’s affairs and finding there was nothing left for him, he had come to the city, and on the morning which we have mentioned went forth alone to look for employment, with no other recommendation than the frank, honest expression of his handsome face.  It was rather discouraging, wearisome work, and Billy’s heart began to misgive him as one after another refused his request.

“It was foolish in me to attempt it,” thought he, as he stopped once more in front of a large wholesale establishment on M——­ street.

Just then his eye caught the sign on which was lettered, “R.J.  Selden & Co.”  The name sounded familiar, and something whispered to him to enter.  He did so, and meeting in the doorway a tall, elegant-looking young man, he asked for Mr. Selden.

“My uncle,” returned the gentleman, who was none other than George Moreland, “has not yet come down, but perhaps I can answer your purpose just as well.  Do you wish to purchase goods?”

Billy, thinking that every one must know his poverty, fancied there was something satirical in the question, but he was mistaken; the manner was natural to the speaker, who, as Billy made no direct reply, again asked.  “What would you like, sir?”

“Something to do, for I have neither money nor home,” was Billy’s prompt answer.

“Will you give me your name?” asked George.

Billy complied, and when he spoke of his native town, George repeated it after him, saying, “I have some acquaintances who spend the summer in Chicopee; but you probably have never known them.”

Immediately Billy thought of the Lincolns, and now knew why the name of Selden seemed so familiar.  He had heard Jenny speak of Ida, and felt certain that R.J.  Selden was her father.

For a moment George regarded him intently, and then said, “We seldom employ strangers without a recommendation; still I do not believe you need any.  My uncle is wanting a young man, but the work may hardly suit you,” he added, naming the duties he would be expected to perform, which certainly were rather menial.  Still, as the wages were liberal, and he would have considerable leisure, Billy, for want of a better, accepted the situation, and was immediately introduced to his business.  For some time he only saw George at a distance, but was told by one of the clerks that he was just graduated at Yale, and was now a junior partner in his uncle’s establishment.  “We all like him very much,” said the clerk, “he is so pleasant and kind, though a little proud, I guess.”