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IT was Salome's fifth birthday. A whole year had passed since I had taken the shilling, and a year seemed a very, very long time to me in those days. I had left school, and had gone to be Betson's errand boy, until father could decide what trade he meant me to follow. I drove a light cart for Betson, and carried out all his parcels, and swept out his shop, and made myself generally useful to him. I was at Betson's early in the morning, and came home quite late in the evening. Betson was doing a large trade, and I had little spare time.
I was very glad that that year happened to be Leap year, and that therefore Salome's birthday was on Sunday, instead of Saturday. I could be with her the whole day.