The man was at his wits' end.
"You'll do it, James,--will you?"
"Ye-yes, sir, certainly."
"That's right. James, you're a good fellow. James, you've got a wife
and children, hav'n't you?"
"Yes, sir, I have; living in the country, sir. In Chelsea, over the
ferry. For cheapness, sir."
"For cheapness, eh? Hard times, James? How is it?"
"Pretty hard, sir. Close, but toler'ble comfortable. Rub and go, sir."
"Rub and go. Ve-r-y well. Rub and go. James, I'm going to raise your
wages--to-morrow. Generally, because you're a good servant.
Principally, because you carried that letter to-night, when my
daughter asked you. I sha'n't forget it. To-morrow, mind. And if I can
do anything for you, James, at any time, just tell me. That's all. Now,
you'd better go to bed. And a happy Christmas to you!"
"Much obliged to you, sir. Same to you and many of 'em. Good night,
sir." And with Dr. Renton's "good-night" he stole up to bed, thoroughly
happy, and determined to obey Miss Renton's future instructions to the
letter.
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