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Updated: June 10, 2025
Stiff and starched and stern though he was, Mr Auberly, had a soft point in his nature, and this point had been reached at last, for through all the stiffness and starch there shone on his countenance an expression of deep anxiety as he gazed at Loo's emaciated form.
"Hopkins!" said Mr Auberly, handing him a slip of paper, "go to this address and ask for the boy William Willders; if he is there, bring him here immediately; if not, find out where he is, search for him, and bring him here without delay. Take a cab."
"Yes, but let him come home, I mean, and be happy with us again as he used to be, and go to the office with you," said Loo. Mr Auberly replied somewhat coldly to this that Fred was welcome to return home if he chose, but that his place in the office had been filled up.
Presently Mr Auberly returned, bade Mrs Rose be very careful of the invalid, and then set off with Willie. At first the boy felt somewhat awed by the remarkably upright figure that stalked in silence at his side, but as they continued to thread their way through the streets he ventured to attempt a little conversation. "Weather's improvin', sir," said Willie, looking up.
"Louisa, dear," said Mr Auberly, recovering from the grim smile which had indicated his appreciation of his own fireside, "pour me out another cup of coffee, and then you had better run away to bed. It is getting late." "Yes, papa," replied a little dark-eyed, dark-haired girl, laying down her book and jumping up to obey the command.
When the fire burst through the library windows he shouted; when Sam Forest, the conductor of the fire-escape, saved Mr Auberly and the women, he hurrahed; when the tall fireman and Baxmore rescued Louisa Auberly he cheered and cheered again until his shrill voice rose high above the shouting of the crowd.
Now, the question is, which o' the two boys am I the one or the t'other ha! sk! ho! Well, of course, both o' the boys will go; they can't help it, there's no gittin' over that; but, then, which of 'em will git the situation? There's a scruncher for you, Mr Auberly. You'll have to fill your house with tar an' turpentine an' set fire to it over again 'afore you'll throw light on that pint.
The precise distance of the relationship between them had never been defined, and all records bearing on it having been lost in the mists of antiquity, it could not now be ascertained; but Miss Tippet laid claim to the relationship, and as she was an obliging, good-humoured, chatty, and musical lady, Mr Auberly admitted the claim.
At the same moment the door of an inner office opened, and Mr Auberly's head clerk, who had seen his employer's approach through the dusty window, issued forth and bowed respectfully, with a touch of condolence in his air, as he referred with much regret to the fire at Beverly Square, and hoped that Miss Auberly was not much the worse of her late alarm.
"Ring that bell; now, go downstairs and Hopkins will introduce you to my housekeeper, who will explain your duties to you." Hopkins entered and solemnly marched Martha Merryon to the regions below. Mr Auberly locked away his papers, pulled out his watch, wound it up, and then, lighting a bedroom candle, proceeded with much gravity upstairs.
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