But it's too late now." After saying this, the merchant placed his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat, and commenced walking the floor of his counting-room backward and forward.

He could not get out of his mind, the image of the boy as he turned from him in tears, nor drive away thoughts of the friend's widow, whom he had neglected.

This state of mind continued all the afternoon.

Its natural effect was to cause him to cast about in his mind for some way of getting employment for Hiram, that would yield immediate returns.

But nothing presented itself.
"I wonder if I couldn't make room for him here ?" he at length said--"He looks like a bright boy.