“Thank you, sir,” said our hero.

His confidence was won by Mr. Wharton’s kind tone, and he briefly recounted his story.

At the conclusion, Mr. Wharton said: 

“How old are you, Frank?”

“Fourteen, sir.”

“You are a brave boy, and a good boy, and you deserve success.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“But I am bound to say that you have a hard task before you.”

“I know it, sir.”

“Why not let your sister go to the poorhouse for a few years, till you are older, and better able to provide for her?”

“I should be ashamed to do it, sir,” he said.  “I promised my mother to take care of Grace, and I will.”

“How much do you earn as a cash-boy?”

“Three dollars a week.”

“Only three dollars a week!  Why, that won’t pay your own expenses!” said the old gentleman in surprise.

“Yes, sir, it does.  I pay fifty cents a week for my room, and my meals don’t cost me much.”

“But you will want clothes.”

“I have enough for the present, and I am laying up fifty cents a week to buy more when I need them.”

“You can’t buy many for twenty-six dollars a year.  But that doesn’t allow anything for your sister’s expenses.”

“That is what puzzles me, sir,” said Frank, fixing a troubled glance upon the fire.  “I shall have to work in the evenings for Grace.”

“What can you do?”

“I could copy, but I suppose there isn’t much chance of getting copying to do.”

“Then you have a good handwriting?”

“Pretty fair, sir.”

“Let me see a specimen.  There are pen and ink on the table, and here is a sheet of paper.”

Frank seated himself at the table, and wrote his name on the paper.

“Very good,” said his host, approvingly.  “Your hand is good enough for a copyist, but you are correct in supposing that work of that kind is hard to get.  Are you a good reader?”

“Do you mean in reading aloud, sir?”

“Yes.”

“I will try, if you wish.”

“Take a book from the table—­any book—­and let me hear you read.”

Frank opened the first book that came to hand—­one of Irving’s and read in a clear, unembarrassed voice about half a page.

“Very good indeed!” said Mr. Wharton.  “You have been well taught.  Where did you attend school?”

“Only in the town school, sir.”

“You have, at any rate, made good use of your advantages.”

“But will it do me any good, sir?” asked Frank.

“People are not paid for reading, are they?”

“Not in general, but we will suppose the case of a person whose eyes are weak, and likely to be badly affected by evening use.  Then suppose such a person could secure the services of a good, clear, distinct reader, don’t you think he would be willing to pay something?”

“I suppose so.  Do you know of any such person?” asked Frank.