"
"All right, sir."
"I suppose your mother can cut them out if I send a shirt as a
pattern?"
"Yes, sir."
Mr. Preston rose, and, going to a bureau, took therefrom a shirt
which he handed to Paul. He then wrote a few lines on a slip of
paper, which he also handed our hero.
"That is an order on Barclay & Co.," he explained, "for the
requisite materials. If either you or your mother presents it,
they will be given you."
"Very good, sir," said Paul.
He took his cap, and prepared to go.
"Good-evening, Mr. Preston," he said.
"Good-evening. I shall expect you with the shirts when they are
ready."
Paul went downstairs and into the street, thinking that Mr.
Preston was very sociable and agreeable. He had fancied that
rich men were generally "stuck up," but about Mr. Preston there
seemed an absence of all pretense. Paul's ambition was aroused
when he thought of the story he had heard, and he wondered
whether it would be possible for him to raise himself to wealth
and live in as handsome a house as Mr. Preston. He thought what
a satisfaction it would be if the time should ever come when he
could free his mother from the necessity of work, and give little
Jimmy a chance to develop his talent for drawing.
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