“Where are you going?” asked the sexton, in surprise.
“I don’t know,” answered Paul.
“Stop a minute. Hester, I want to speak to you.”
They went into the sitting-room together.
“This boy, Hester,” he commenced with hesitation.
“Well, Hugh?”
“He has no home.”
“It is a hard lot.”
“Do you think we should be the worse off if we offered to share our home with him?”
“It is like your kind heart, Hugh. Let us go and tell him.”
“We have been talking of you, Paul,” said the sexton. “We have thought, Hester and myself, that as you had no home and we no child, we should all be the gainers by your staying with us. Do you consent?”
“Consent!” echoed Paul in joyful surprise.
“How can I ever repay your kindness?”
“If you are the boy we take you for, we shall feel abundantly repaid. Hester, we can give Paul the little bedroom where–where John used to sleep.”
His voice faltered a little, for John was the name of his boy, who had ben drowned.
XVI.
YOUNG STUPID.
PAUL found the sexton’s dwelling very different from his last home, if the Poorhouse under the charge of Mr. and Mrs. Mudge de served such a name. His present home was an humble one, but he was provided with every needful comfort, and the atmosphere of kindness which surrounded him, gave him a feeling of peace and happiness which he had not enjoyed for a long time.
Paul supposed that he would be at once set to work, and even then would have accounted himself fortunate in possessing such a home.
But Mr. Cameron had other views for him.
“Are you fond of studying?” asked the sexton, as they were all three gathered in the little sitting room, an evening or two after Paul first came.
“Very much!” replied our hero.
“And would you like to go to school?”
“What, here in New York?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, very much indeed.”
“I am glad to hear you say so, my lad. There is nothing like a good education. If I had a son of my own, I would rather leave him that than money, for while the last may be lost, the first never can be. And though you are not my son, Paul, Providence has in a manner conducted you to me, and I feel responsible for your future. So you shall go to school next Monday morning, and I hope you will do yourself much credit there.”
“Thank you very much,” said Paul. “I feel very grateful, but—-”
“You surely are not going to object?” said the sexton.
“No, but—-”
“Well, Paul, go on,” seeing that the boy hesitated.
“Why,” said our hero, with a sense of delicacy which did him credit, “If I go to school, I shall not be able to earn my board, and shall be living at your expense, though I have no claim upon you.”
“Oh, is that all?” said the sexton cheerfully, “I was afraid that it was something more serious. As to that, I am not rich, and never expect to be. But what little expense you will be will not ruin me. Besides, when you are grown up and doing well, you can repay me, if I ever need it.”
“That I will,” said Paul.
“Mind, if I ever need it,–not otherwise. There, now, it’s a bargain on that condition. You haven’t any other objection,” seeing that Paul still hesitated.
“No, or at least I should like to ask your advice,” said Paul. “Just before my father died, he told me of a debt of five hundred dollars which he had not been able to pay. I saw that it troubled him, and I promised to pay it whenever I was able. I don’t know but I ought to go to work so as to keep my promise.”
“No,” said the sexton after a moment’s reflection, “the best course will be to go to school, at present. Knowledge is power, and a good education will help you to make money by and by. I approve your resolution, my lad, and if you keep it resolutely in mind I have no doubt you will accomplish your object. But the quickest road to success is through the schoolroom. At present you are not able to earn much. Two or three years hence will be time enough.”