But George Weston stood where he was; he could not condescend to so mean
an imposition, and he felt pleased to see that Charles Hardy, unlike the
others, made no attempt to hide the fact that he had been engaged in
conversation, instead of continuing at his work.

At six o'clock the day's duties were over; and George felt not a little
pleased when the hour struck, and Mr. Sanders told him he could go.
Hardy was leaving just at the same time, and so they went out together.

"Are you going anywhere in my direction?" said Hardy; "I live at
Canonbury."

"Indeed!" replied George; "I'm glad to hear that, for I live at
Islington, close by you. If you are willing, we will bear one another
company, for I want to ask you one or two questions;" and taking Hardy's
arm, the two strolled homewards together.

Now George would never have thought of walking arm in-arm with Mr.
Williams, or any of the other clerks; but, from the first time he saw
Hardy, and noticed his quiet, gentlemanly manners, he felt sure he
should like him. Hardy, too, had evidently taken a fancy to George; and
therefore both felt pleased that accident had brought them together.
Accident? No, that is a wrong word; whenever a heart feels that there is
another heart beating like its own, and those two hearts go out one
towards the other, until they become knit together in the bonds of
friendship, there is something more than accident in that.

"How long have you been in Mr. Compton's office?" said George, as they
walked along,