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CHAPTER XIII. PHIL\'S NEW HOME.
The house was poorly furnished with cheap furniture, but there was an unexpected air of neatness about it. There is a great difference between respectable and squalid poverty. It was the first of these that was apparent in the small house in which our hero found himself.
“I am looking for a boarding-place,” said Philip. “I cannot afford to pay a high price.”
“And I should not think of asking a high price for such plain accommodations as I can offer,” said Mrs. Forbush. “What sort of a room do you desire?”
“A small room will answer.”
“I have a hall-bedroom at the head of the stairs. Will you go up and look at it?”
“I should like to do so.”
Mrs. Forbush led the way up a narrow staircase, and Philip followed her.
Opening the door of the small room referred to, she showed a neat bed, a chair, a wash-stand, and a few hooks from which clothing might be hung. It was plain enough, but there was an air of neatness which did not characterize his present room.
“I like the room,” he said, brightening up. “How much do you charge for this room and board?”
“Four dollars. That includes breakfast and supper,” answered Mrs. Forbush. “Lunch you provide for yourself.”
“That will be satisfactory,” said Phil. “I am in a place down town, and I could not come to lunch, at any rate.”
“When would you like to come, Mr.——?” said the widow interrogatively.
“My name is Philip Brent.”
“Mr. Brent.”
“I will come some time to-morrow.”
“Generally I ask a small payment in advance, as a guarantee that an applicant will really come, but I am sure I can trust you.”
“Thank you, but I am quite willing to conform to your usual rule,” said Phil, as he drew a two-dollar bill from his pocket and handed it to the widow.
So they parted, mutually pleased. Phil's week at his present lodging would not be up for several days, but he was tired of it, and felt that he would be much more comfortable with Mrs. Forbush. So he was ready to make the small pecuniary sacrifice needful.
The conversation which has been recorded took but five minutes, and did not materially delay Phil, who, as I have already said, was absent from the store on an errand.
The next day Phil became installed at his new boarding-place, and presented himself at supper.
There were three other boarders, two being a young salesman at a Third Avenue store and his wife. They occupied a square room on the same floor with Phil. The other was a female teacher, employed in one of the city public schools. The only remaining room was occupied by a drummer, who was often called away for several days together. This comprised the list of boarders, but Phil's attention was called to a young girl of fourteen, of sweet and attractive appearance, whom he ascertained to be a daughter of Mrs. Forbush. The young lady herself, Julia Forbush, cast frequent glances at Phil, who, being an unusually good-looking boy, would naturally excite the notice of a young girl.
On the whole, it seemed a pleasant and social circle, and Phil felt that he had found a home.
The next day, as he was occupied in the store, next to G. Washington Wilbur, he heard that young man say:
“Why, there's Mr. Carter coming into the store!”
Mr. Oliver Carter, instead of making his way directly to the office where Mr. Pitkin was sitting, came up to where Phil was at work.
“How are you getting along, my young friend?” he asked familiarly.
“Very well, thank you, sir.”
“Do you find your duties very fatiguing?”
“Oh, no, sir. I have a comfortable time.”
“That's right. Work cheerfully and you will win the good opinion of your employer. Don't forget to come up and see me soon.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“You seem to be pretty solid with the old man,” remarked Mr. Wilbur.
“We are on very good terms,” answered Phil, smiling.
“I wish you had introd............
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