“This is my family,” said Miss Norris, pointing to the cats.
“I like cats,” said Carl.
“Do you?” returned Miss Norris, looking pleased. “Most boys tease them. Do you see poor Molly’s ear? That wound came from a stone thrown by a bad boy.”
“Many boys are cruel,” said Carl, “but I remember that my mother was very fond of cats, and I have always protected them from abuse.”
As he spoke he stroked Molly, who purred an acknowledgment of his attention. This completed the conquest of Miss Norris, who inwardly decided that Carl was the finest boy she had ever met. After she had served Carl from the dishes on the table, she poured out two saucers of milk and set one before each cat, who, rising upon her hind legs, placed her forepaws on the table, and gravely partook of the refreshments provided. Jane and Molly were afterwards regaled with cold meat, and then, stretching themselves out on their chairs, closed their eyes in placid content.
During the meal Miss Norris questioned Carl closely as to his home experiences. Having no reason for concealment Carl frankly related his troubles with his stepmother, eliciting expressions of sympathy and approval from his hostess.
“Your stepmother must be an ugly creature?” she said.
“I am afraid I am prejudiced against her,” said Carl, “but that is my opinion.”
“Your father must be very weak to be influenced against his own son by such a woman.”
Carl winced a little at this outspoken criticism, for he was attached to his father in spite of his unjust treatment.
“My father is an invalid,” he said, apologetically, “and I think he yielded for the sake of peace.”
“All the same, he ought not to do it,” said Miss Norris. “Do you ever expect to live at home again?”
“Not while my stepmother is there,” answered Carl. “But I don’t know that I should care to do so under any circumstances, as I am now receiving a business training. I should like to make a little visit home,” he added, thoughtfully, “and perhaps I may do so after I return from Chicago. I shall have no favors to ask, and shall feel independent.”
“If you ever need a home,” said Miss Norris, abruptly, “come here. You will be welcome.”
“Thank you very much,” said Carl, gratefully. “It is all the more kind in you since you have known me so short a time.”
“I have known you long enough to judge of you,” said the maiden lady. “And now if you won’t have anything more we will go into the next room and talk business.”
Carl followed her into the adjoining room, and Miss Norris at once plunged into the subject. She handed him a business card bearing this inscription:
JOHN FRENCH, BOOTS, SHOES AND RUBBER GOODS, 42a State Street, CHICAGO.
“This young man wants me to lend him two thousand dollars to extend his business,” she said. “He is the son of an old school friend, and I am willing to oblige him if he is a sober, steady and economical business man. I want you to find out whether this is the case and report to me.”
“Won’t that be difficult?” asked Carl.
“Are you afraid to undertake anything that is difficult?”
“No,” answered Carl, with a smile. “I was only afraid I might not do the work satisfactorily.”
“I shall give you no instructions,” said Miss Norris. “I shall trust to your good judgment. I will give you a letter to Mr. French, which you can use or not, as you think wise. Of course, I shall see that you are paid for your trouble.”
“Thank you,” said Carl. “I hope my services may be worth compensation.”
“I don’t know how you are situated as to money, but I can give you some in advance,” and the old lady opened her pocketbook.
“No, thank you, Miss Norris; I shall not need it. I might have been short if you had not kindly paid me a reward for a slight service.”
“Slight, indeed! If you had lost a bank book like mine you would be glad to get it back at such a price. If you will catch the rascal who stole it I will gladly pay you as much more.”
“I wish I might for my own sake, but I am afraid it would be too late to recover my money and clothing.”
At an early hour Carl left the house, promising to write to Miss Norris from Chicago.
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