Mr. Fletcher was known as a very strict man of business, and as little else.  But he was a good judge of character, and under his notions of discipline and of industry he was a kindly man, as his clerks, who feared his sharp oversight, knew.  And besides, he had made a compact with Edith, for whom he had something more than family affection, and he watched Jack’s efforts to adjust himself to the new life with sympathy.  If it was an experiment for Jack, it was also an experiment for him, the result of which gave him some anxiety.  The situation was not a very heroic one, but a life is often decided for good or ill by as insignificant a matter as Jack’s ability to persevere in learning about the twine and cordage trade.  This was a day of trial, and the element of uncertainty in it kept both Mr. Fletcher and Jack from writing of the new arrangement to Edith, for fear that only disappointment to her would be the ultimate result.  Jack’s brief notes to her were therefore, as usual, indefinite, but with the hint that he was beginning to see a way out of his embarrassment.

After the passage of a couple of weeks, during which Mr. Fletcher had been quietly studying his new clerk, he suddenly said to him, one Saturday morning, after they had looked over and estimated the orders by the day’s mail, “Jack, I think you’d better let up a little, and run down and see Edith.”

“Oh!” said Jack, a little startled by the proposal, but recovering himself; “I didn’t suppose the business could spare me.”

“I didn’t mean a vacation, but run down for over Sunday.  It must be lovely there, and the change will make you as keen as a brier for business.  It always does me.  Stay over Monday if the weather is good.  I have to be away myself the week after.”  As Jack hesitated and did not reply, Mr. Fletcher continued: 

“I really think you’d better go, Jack.  You have hardly had a breath of fresh air this summer.  There’s plenty of time to go up-town and get your grip and catch the afternoon train.”

Jack was still silent.  The thought of seeing Edith created a tumult in his mind.  It seemed as if he were not quite ready, not exactly settled.  He had been procrastinating so long, putting off going, on one pretext or another, that he had fallen into a sort of fear of going.  At first, absorbed in his speculations, enthralled by the company of Carmen and the luxurious, easy-going view of life that her society created for him; he had felt Edith and his house as an irritating restraint.  Later, when the smash came, he had been still more relieved that she was out of town.  And finally he had fallen into a reckless apathy, and had made himself believe that he never would see her again until some stroke of fortune should set him on his feet and restore his self-respect.

But since he had been with Fletcher & Co. his feelings had gradually undergone a change.  With a regular occupation and regular hours, and in contact with the sensible mind and business routine of Mr. Fletcher, he began to have saner views of life, and to realize that Edith would approve what he was now attempting to do much more than any effort to relieve himself by speculation.