"
"That is true, Luke. But I hope it won't be long before you
have a watch of your own."
When Luke was walking, after breakfast, he met Randolph
Duncan, with a chain attached to the prize watch ostentatiously
displayed on the outside of his vest. He smiled complacently,
and rather triumphantly, when he met Luke. But Luke looked
neither depressed nor angry.
"I hope your watch keeps good time, Randolph," he said.
"Yes; it hasn't varied a minute so far. I think it will keep
as good time as my silver watch."
"You are fortunate to have two watches."
"My father has promised me a gold watch when I am eighteen,"
said Randolph, pompously.
"I don't know if I shall have any watch at all when I am eighteen."
"Oh, well, you are a poor boy. It doesn't matter to you."
"I don't know about that, Randolph. Time is likely to be
of as much importance to a poor boy as to a rich boy."
"Oh, ah! yes, of course, but a poor boy isn't expected to wear
a watch."
Here the conversation ended. Luke walked on with an amused smile
on his face.
"I wonder how it would seem to be as complacent and self-satisfied
as Randolph?" he thought. "On the whole, I would rather be as I am."
"Good morning, Luke!"
It was a girl's voice that addressed him. Looking up, he met the
pleasant glance of Florence Grant, considered by many the prettiest
girl in Groveton. Her mother was a widow in easy circumstances,
who had removed from Chicago three years before, and occupied a
handsome cottage nearly opposite Mr.
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