y's confidence was not shaken. "I know you'll be getting on faster
than--"

"Faster?" George echoed gravely. "We've got to have more than that to
start with."

"Well, there's the six hundred dollars from the sale. Six hundred and
twelve dollars it was."

"It isn't six hundred and twelve now," said George. "It's about one
hundred and sixty."

Fanny showed a momentary dismay. "Why, how--"

"I lent Uncle George two hundred; I gave fifty apiece to old Sam and
those two other old darkies that worked for grandfather so long, and ten
to each of the servants here--"

"And you gave me thirty-six," she said thoughtfully, "for the first
month's rent, in advance."

"Did I? I'd forgotten. Well, with about a hundred and sixty in bank and
our expenses a hundred a month, it doesn't seem as if this new place--"

"Still," she interrupted, "we have paid the first month's rent in
advance, and it does seem to be the most practical--"

George rose. "See here, Aunt Fanny," he said decisively. "You stay here
and look after the moving. Old Frank doesn't expect me until afternoon,
this first day, but I'll go and see him now."

It was early, and old Frank, just established at his big, flat-topped
desk, was surprised when his prospective assistant and pupil walked
in. He was pleased, as well as surprised, however, and rose, offering
a cordial old hand. "The real flare!" he said. "The real flare for the
law. That's right! Couldn't wait till afternoon to begin! I'm delighted
that you--"

"I wanted to say--" George began, but his patron cut him off.

"Wait just a minute, my boy. I've prepared a little speech of welcome,
and even though you're five hours ahead of time, I mean to deliver
it. First of all, your grandfather was my old war-comrade and my best
client; for years I prospered through my connection with his business,
and his grandson is welcome in my office and to my best efforts in his
behalf. But I want to confess, Georgie, that during your earlier youth I
may have had some slight feeling of--well, prejudice, not altogether in
your favour; but whatever slight feeling it was, it began to vanish on
that afternoon, a good while ago, when you stood up to your Aunt Amelia
Amberson as you did in the Major's library, and talked to her as a man
and a gentleman should. I saw then what good stuff was in you--and I
always wanted to mention it. If my prejudice hadn't altogether vanished
after that, the last vestiges disappeared during the