had depth and distinction.

Elated and eager, he assisted Brewster in selecting furniture and
hangings for each room, but he did not know that his employer was
making conditional purchases of everything. Mr. Brewster had
agreements with all the dealers to the effect that they were to
buy everything back at a fair price, if he desired to give up his
establishment within a year. He adhered to this rule in all cases
that called for the purchase outright of substantial necessities.
The bump of calculativeness in Monty Brewster's head was growing
to abnormal proportions.

In retaining his rooms at Mrs. Gray's, he gave the flimsy but
pathetic excuse that he wanted a place in which he might find
occasional seasons of peace and quiet. When Mrs. Gray protested
against this useless bit of extravagance, his grief was so
obviously genuine that her heart was touched, and there was a
deep, fervent joy in her soul. She loved this fair-faced boy, and
tears of happiness came to her eyes when she was given this new
proof of his loyalty and devotion. His rooms were kept for him
just as if he had expected to occupy them every day and every
night, notwithstanding the luxurious apartments he was to maintain
elsewhere. The Oliver Optic books still lay in the attic, all
tattered and torn, but to Margaret the embodiment of prospective
riches, promises of sweet hours to come. She knew Monty well
enough to feel that he would not forget the dark little attic of
old for all the splendors that might come with the new
dispensation.

There was no little surprise when he sent out invitations for a