hesitation in doing this, as the errand was one that required nothing
more than honesty and a little prudence.

"Mr. Haldane," said his employer, in tones somewhat less cold and formal
than those habitual with him, "we will let bygones be bygones. I am
inclined to think that hereafter you will be disposed to give your
thoughts more fully to business, as a man should who proposes to amount
to anything in the world. In these envelopes are one thousand dollars in
currency. I wish you to place them securely in your breast-pockets, and
take the five-thirty train to New York, and from thence early to-morrow
go out on the Long Island road to a little station called Arnotville,
and give these packages to Mr. Black, the agent in charge of my factory
there. Take his receipt, and report to me to-morrow evening. With that
amount of money upon your person you will perceive the necessity of
prudence and care. Here is a check paying your salary for the past
month. The cashier will give you currency for it. Report your expenses
on your return, and they will be paid. As the time is limited, perhaps
you can get some lunch at or near the depot."

"I prefer to do so," said Haldane, promptly, "and will try to perform
the business to your satisfaction."

Mr. Arnot nodded a cool dismissal, and Haldane started for a
hotel-restaurant near the depot with a step entirely too quick and
elastic for one who must walk henceforth in the shadow of "bitter
memories and dark disappointment." The exercise brought color to his
cheek, and there certainly was a sparkle in his dark eyes. It could not
be hope, for he had assured himself again and again that "hope was dead
in his heart." It might have been caused after his long fast by the
anticipation of a lunch at the depot and a _petit souper_ in the