business from his house.

"Do you always walk?" he asked.

[Illustration: "I HOPE THEE IS NEITHER EXTRAVAGANT NOR LAZY?"]

"Always. I have found that exercise is good, and the car fare worth
saving. 'A penny saved is a penny gained,' I have made my motto through
life, and for that reason I have never known want. I hope thee is
neither extravagant nor lazy?"

This with a keen, shrewd, not unkindly glance from beneath the level
gray eyebrows.

Neal colored and hoped he was not, knowing all the time that these were
two serious faults of his.

They had passed through the fashionable part of the city, and were
walking down a narrow, low-built street. In the distance was a huge
space filled with great piles of boards that came far up above the high
fence which surrounded the whole square.

"This is my office," said Mr. Carpenter, as he opened the door of a
small low building in the corner of the great yard. "I am in the lumber
business."

It was some time before he could say any more to his cousin. There were
letters to be opened, his head clerk to be interviewed, men to be
directed.

Neal sat at a window that looked out on the yard, and watched some men
that were loading a huge dray. There were boards, boards, boards
everywhere. How tired he should get of lumber if he had to stay here! He
hoped that his business, whatever it might prove to be, would be more
exciting and more in the heart of things than this remote lumber-yard.
He thought from what he had heard that he would like to be a
stock-broker, as long as he was barred out of the professions by not
going through college.

He was just imagining himself on 'Change, in the midst of an eager crowd
of other successful brokers, a panic imminent, and he alone cool and
self-possessed, when his cousin's voice rudely interrupted his reverie.
It sounded calmer than ever in contrast to Neal's day-dream.

"Cousin, if thee will come into my private office I will listen to thee
for fifteen or twenty minutes."

Neal obeyed, but found it difficult to begin his story. It is a very
hard thing to tell a man that you are suspected of being a thief.

"I don't know whether you know," he began, rather haltingly, "that
I--that--in fact, I've left Hester for good and all. You are my
guardian, so you must know all about that conf--that abom--that--er--
well, that will of my grandmother's. Hester didn't give me a large
enough allowance--at least, I didn't think it was enough--and