“A young man wishes to see you, Mr. Melville,” said the servant.
George Melville looked up in some surprise from his book, and said: “You
may show him up.”
“It must be Herbert,” he thought.
But when the door was opened, and the visitor shown in, Mr. Melville
found it was an older person than Herbert. Eben, for it was he,
distorted his mean features into what he regarded as a pleasant smile,
and, without waiting to receive a welcome, came forward with extended
hand.
“I believe you are Mr. Melville,” he said, inquiringly.
“Yes, that is my name,” said Melville, looking puzzled; “I don't
remember you. Have I met you before?”
“You saw me in father's store, very likely,” said Eben. “I am Eben
Graham, son of Ebenezer Graham, the postmaster.”
“Indeed! That accounts for your face looking familiar. You resemble your
father very closely.”
“I'm a chip off the old block with modern improvements,” said Eben,
smirking. “Father's always lived in the country, and he ain't very
stylish. I've been employed in Boston for a couple of years past, and
got a little city polish.”
“You don't show much of it,” thought Melville, but he refrained from
saying so.
“So you have come home to assist your father,” he said, politely.
“Well, no, not exactly,” answered Eben, “I feel that a country store
isn't my sphere.”
“Then you propose to go back to the city?”
“Probably I shall do so eventually, but I may stay here in Wayneboro a
while if I can make satisfactory arrangements. I assure you that it was
not my wish to take Herbert Carr's place.”
“Herbert told me that you had assumed his duties.”
“It is only ad interim. I assure you, it is only ad interim. I am quite
ready to give back the place to Herbert, who is better suited to it than
I.”
“I wonder what the fellow is driving at,” thought Melville. Eben did not
long leave him in doubt.
“Herbert tells me that he has made an engagement with you,” continued
Eben, desiring to come to his business as soon as possible.
“Yes, we have made a mutual arrangement.”
“Of course, it is very nice for him; and so I told him.”
“I think I am quite as much a gainer by it as he is,” said Melville.
“Herbert was right. He is easily suited,” said Eben, to himself.
“Of course,” Eben added, clearing his throat, “Herbert isn't so much of
a companion to you as if he were a few years older.”
“I don't know that; it seems to me that he is a very pleasant companion,
young as he is.”
“To be sure, Herbert is a nice boy, and father was glad to help him
along by giving him a place, with a larger salary than he ever paid
before.”
“What is he driving at?” thought Melville.
“To come to the point, Mr. Melville,” said Eben, “I have made bold to
call upon you to suggest a little difference in your arrangements.”
“Indeed!” said Melville, coldly. Though he had no idea what his singular
visitor was about to propose, it struck him emphatically that Eben was
interfering in an unwarrantable manner with his affairs.
“You see,” continued Eben, “I'm a good deal nearer your age than
Herbert, and I've had the advantage of residing in the city, which
Herbert hasn't, and naturally should be more company to you. Then,
again, Herbert could do the work in the post office and store, which I
am doing, nearly as well as I can. I'll undertake to get father to give
him back his place, and then I shall be happy to make an arrangement
with you to go hunting and fishing, or anything else that you choose.
I am sure I should enjoy your company, Mr. Melville,” concluded Eben,
rubbing his hands complacently and surveying George Melville with an
insinuating smile.
“You have certainly taken considerable trouble to arrange this matter
for me,” said Melville, with a sarcasm which Eben did not detect.
“Oh, no trouble at all!” said Eben, cheerfully. “You see, the idea came
into my head when Herbert told me of his arrangements with you, and I
thought I'd come and see you about it.”
“Did you mention it to Herbert?” asked George Melville, with some
curiosity.
“Well, no, I didn't. I didn't know how Herbert would look at it. I got
Herbert to take my place in the store while I ran over to see you about
the matter. By the way, though I am some years older than Herbert, I
shan't ask more than you pay him. In fact, I am willing to leave the pay
to your liberality.”
“You are very considerate!” said Melville, hardly knowing whether to be
amused or provoked by the cool assurance of his visitor.
“Oh, not at all!” returned Eben, complacently. “I guess I've fetched
him!” he reflected, looking at Mr. Melville through his small,
half-closed eyes.
“You have certainly surprised me very much, Mr. Graham,” said Melville,
“by the nature of your suggestion. I won't take into consideration the
question whether you have thought more of your own pleasure or mine.
So far as the latter is concerned, you have made a mistake in supposing
that Herbert's youth is any drawback to his qualification as a
companion. Indeed, his youth and cheerful temperament make him more
attractive in my eyes. I hope, Mr. Graham, you will excuse me for saying
that he suits me better than you possibly could.”
Eben's countenance fell, and he looked quite discomfited and mortified.
“I didn't suppose a raw, country boy would be likely to suit a gentleman
of taste, who has resided in the city,” he said, with asperity.
“Then you will have a chance to correct your impression,” said Melville,
with a slight smile.
“Then you don't care to accept my offer?” said Eben, regretfully.
“Thank you, no. If you will excuse me for suggesting it, Mr. Graham,
it would have been more considerate for you to have apprised Herbert of
your object in asking him to take your place this evening. Probably he
had no idea that you meant to supersede him with me.”
Eben tossed his head.
“You mustn't think, Mr. Melville,” he said, “that I was after the extra
pay. Six dollars doesn't seem much to me. I was earning ten dollars a
week in Boston, and if I had stayed, should probably have been raised to
twelve.”
“So that you were really consenting to a sacrifice in offering to enter
my employment at six dollars a week?”
“Just so!”
“Then I am all the more convinced that I have decided for the best in
retaining Herbert. I do not wish to interfere with your prospects in the
city.”
“Oh, as for that,” said Eben, judging that he had gone too far, “I
don't care to go back to the city just yet. I've been confined pretty
steadily, and a few weeks in the country, hunting and fishing, will do
me good.”
George Melville bowed, but said nothing.
Eben felt that he had no excuse for staying longer, and reluctantly
rose.
“If you should think better of what I've proposed,” he said, “you can
let me know.”
“I will do so,” said Melville.
“He's rather a queer young man,” muttered Eben, as he descended the
stairs. “It's funny that he should prefer a country boy like Herbert to
a young man like me who's seen life, and got some city polish--at the
same price, too! He don't seem to see his own interest. I'm sorry, for
it would have been a good deal more interesting to me, going round with
him a few hours a day, than tending store for father. There's one thing
sure, I won't do it long. I'm fitted for a higher position than that, I
hope.”
“For downright impudence and cool assurance, I think that young man will
bear off the palm,” thought George Melville, as his unwelcome visitor
left the room. “Herbert is in no danger from him. It would probably
surprise him if he knew that I should consider his company as an
intolerable bore. I will tell Herbert to-morrow the good turn his friend
has tried to do him.”