His mother was waiting to give George his breakfast.

Whether he chose to lie in bed until noon or to walk twenty miles at dawn, she smiled a joyful approval.

But neither the crisp toast, nor the fried chicken, nor any of her funny stories, would penetrate the blackness of his gloom.
"Oh, by the way!" she said; "here is a letter that came by last night's mail.

I forgot to give it to you." He glanced at the envelope.

"Great Heavens! It is life and death to me, and you forget it to tell Jack's pert sayings!" He read the letter and threw it down.
"What is it, George ?" she asked humbly.
"Burnett & Hoyle offer me a place in their house." "Mr.Hoyle is an old friend of mine.