The Freemason's Daughter: A Novel — page 23: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

14 - THE FREEMASON’S DAUGHTER. ** How, then,” resumed Richard, ‘‘ should my mo- ther be otherwise than glad to see you? and Amy shall sing to you one of her merry songs. Good bye —good bye.” With a warm grasp of the hand, the young man left the office, full of anticipation and hope, rejoicing in the pleasure which his holiday would afford his mother and sister. A month’s repose to his tired spirit seemed an eternity of leisure—a harvest of strength. Poor fellow, it was but the prelude to the grave! As his attenuated form passed the threshold of the counting-house, a tear from old Gridley’s eyes fell upon the ledger, and blotted the figures. It was the purest record the pages of the book received, for the tears were those of pity and repentance. No sooner was Richard gone, than Mr. Small, who had been meditating during his brief conversation with the old clerk, with an air of sudden resolution entered the private room where his partner and Henry Beacham were quietly sipping their wine. ‘* Ah, Small!’ exclaimed Mr.Grindem, “take a chair; you will find a fresh glass on the tray. Port or Madeira?” The speaker was extremely choice of the latter wine, which had twice made the voyage to the East Indies and back. He offered it as a matter of politeness only; it was understood as such, and invariably declined. The sycophant filled his glass with port. * Anything particular ?”” demanded Grindem, after @ pause. COniiclooecl SS (SO