"
A step upon the gravelled walk warned the lovers to retreat, and ere
long Mr. Spriggins was wending his steps up Sydney street, muttering
imprecations upon the unknown person who had so unceremoniously
broken up their rendezvous.
Meanwhile Phillip Lawson was enjoying the quiet of his cosy back
parlor. He was seated in his huge arm-chair enjoying the _Evening
Globe_ and a choice cigar.
Lottie Lawson had once remarked that brother Phillip might go
without his tea, but he could not sleep without seeing the
_Globe_. And the little maid was right, for nothing is more
inviting for the hurried man of business, the politician, the
professional or the student than the perusal of the evening paper.
Look into the counting-rooms, the offices, the libraries--aye, even
the brilliantly-illuminated parlors--and you will in each find your
answer.
But we must turn to our legal friend. As Mr. Spriggins surmised, it
was court week, and a very busy one for Mr. Lawson. Brighter
prospects were now in store. Prosperity had dawned upon the untiring
student, and he looked forward with encouraging hopes.
"Thank God I am here yet," was the young man's exclamation, as he
threw aside the paper and began to ruminate upon his prospects in
general.
Pages:
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273