“Hopes to be of a good deal more service to you.  I must leave you now, but I shall bear you in mind, and hope soon to be the bearer of good tidings.  I will take down your address, and call upon you again soon.  Will you allow me to offer you a suggestion?”

“Certainly.”

“Then send out and buy some meat.  This dry bread is not sufficient for you.  Don’t be afraid to spend the money I leave with you.  I will see that you have more.”

As Andy left Mrs. Carter’s humble home he felt more than ever the cold and selfish character of the man who, himself living luxuriously, suffered his brother’s family to want.

CHAPTER XXVI.

MR. WARREN AND HIS SUCCESS.

Andy told Mr. Crawford about the poor family he had visited, and what he had done to help them.

“You must let me refund the money, Andy,” said his employer.  “Five dollars is a good deal for a boy to give.”

“Don’t forget that I have a double income, Mr. Crawford.  I would prefer that this money should come from me.  If you are willing to give another five dollars, it will be appreciated.”

“Then I will make it ten.  Will you take charge of this bill and give it to Mrs. Carter?”

“With the greatest pleasure, Mr. Crawford.  You have no idea what happiness it will give the family.”

“I am glad you called my attention to their needs.  If I could do anything more to help them—­”

“You can if you know any one who wants a typewriter.”

“Is the boy able to work a typewriter?”

“No, but the mother is.  Before her marriage she was in a lawyer’s office.”

“That is a fortunate suggestion.  I have a college friend—­a classmate at Columbia—­Mr. Gardner, who has just parted with his typewriter, who is about to be married.”

“May I call at his office, and ask for the situation for Mrs. Carter?”

“Yes; it is on Nassau Street.”

Andy seized his hat and went over to the lawyer’s office.

It was 132 Nassau Street, in the Vanderbilt Building.  He went up in the elevator and found Mr. Gardner in.

“I come from Mr. Crawford,” said Andy.  “He says you need a typewriter.”

“Are you a typewriter?”

“No; I ask for the position for a lady;” and he told the story.

“You say she has had experience in a lawyer’s office?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That will make her more desirable.  When can she call?”

“I will have her here to-morrow morning at any hour.”

“Say ten o’clock—­a little before, perhaps.”

The lawyer was a pleasant-looking man of medium age, and Andy felt sure that he would be a kind and considerate employer.

After office hours, and before going up to his pupil, Andy called at the humble home of Mrs. Carter.  The widow’s face brightened as she saw him.

“You are my good friend,” she said.  “You are welcome.”