“No, sir, I don’t think we do.”

“Well, business will be brisker by and by.  I think you can find a little for this young man to do in the meantime.  He can go to the post office, and I believe I have a little extra writing to be done.  Pass him a pen, and let him give us a specimen of his handwriting.”

Fortunately, Herbert was a handsome writer, and this went a considerable way in his favor.

“Very neat,” said the merchant.  “By the way, Herbert, I suppose, of course, you know nothing of French?”

“Yes, sir, I can read it pretty well.”

“Indeed!” said Mr. Godfrey, surprised.  “Then you can be of service to me, that is, if you know it well enough.  I received, this morning, a letter from a silk house at Lyons, a part of which I don’t quite understand.  The fact is, my French is rather poor.  Do you think you could help me translate it?”

“If you will show me the letter, I will try, sir.”

The merchant took a letter from the table before him and handed it to Herbert.

Our hero ran his eye rapidly over it, and then rendered it into English in a clear and grammatical way.

“Bless me, you’re quite a scholar,” said Mr. Godfrey.  “I understand now.  You’ve made it all plain.  Where did you learn so much French?”

“My father taught me, sir.  He also taught me Latin.”

“Indeed, I congratulate you on possessing so good an education.  Latin, however, isn’t so much in my way.  I haven’t many Latin correspondents.”

“I suppose not, sir,” said Herbert, laughing.

“Still, it does no harm to know something of it.”

Tom Stanton had listened with considerable surprise, mingled with mortification, to what had passed.  It appeared then, that his country cousin, whom he had looked upon as a country boor, was his superior in education, and, as Tom secretly knew, in courage.  And now he was going to be his fellow-clerk.  He felt jealous and angry, fearing that Herbert, who appeared to be high in favor already, would eclipse him in the office.

“How much can you live upon economically?” asked the merchant.

“I know little of the city,” said Herbert.  “You can judge better than I, sir.”

“You pay three dollars a week board.  You’ll need double that amount.  Mr. Pratt, you may pay him six dollars a week.  He will come to work to-morrow morning, and you may pay him Saturday, as if it was a whole week.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Herbert, gratefully.  “You are very kind.”

“Do your duty, my young friend, and I shall be satisfied.”

Tom Stanton listened in indignant surprise.  He only got four dollars a week, and here was a country boy placed over his head.  He was imprudent enough to give expression to his feelings.

“Won’t you give me six dollars a week, also?” he said.

“Why should I?”

“Don’t I deserve as much as he?”