r man, I won't shirk it--no, I won't
shirk it.' He rubbed his hands together slowly, and nodded across the
hearth to his niece. Instead of being pleased, as she ought to have
been, with this announcement, she gave a quick little shiver. 'My
brother John--your father, I mean--and I have not met for a good number
of years, not since we had the misfortune to disagree about a trifle,'
continued the old man, keeping his eyes fixed on the girl's face till
she found herself made nervous by them. 'Time has proved that I was
right, quite right; but my brother John was always, if you will excuse
me saying it, rather pigheaded, and'--

'Don't let us speak about him if you do not feel kindly to him!' cried
the girl, her great eyes flashing, her slender frame trembling with
indignation. 'I will not listen, I will go away and leave you, Uncle
Abel, if you speak harshly of papa.'

'So'--Abel Graham slapped his knee as he uttered this meditative
monosyllable, and continued to regard his niece with keener scrutiny, if
that were possible, than before. 'It is John's temper--a very firebrand.
My dear, you are very young, and you should not be above taking advice.
Let me advise you to control that fiery passion. Temper doesn't pay--it
is one of the things which nothing can ever make pay in this world.
Well, will you be so kind as to give me a little insight into the state
of your affairs? A poor enough state they appear to be in, if this
parson writes truly--only parsons are accustomed to draw the long bow,
for the purpose of ferreting money out of people's pockets. Well, my
dear, have you nothing to tell me?'

Gladys continued to look at him with dislike and distrust she made no
attempt to disguise. If only he would not call her 'my dear.' She
resented the familiarity. He had no right to presume on such a short
acquaintance.

'I have nothing to tell you, I think,' she said very coldly, 'except
that papa is dead, and I have to earn my own living.'

[Illustration]

CHAPTER II.

WHAT TO DO WITH HER.

'Your own living? I am glad to hear you put it so sensibly. I must say I
hardly expected it,' said the old man, with engaging frankness. 'Well,
but tell me first what your name is. I don't know what to call you.'

'Gladys,' she answered; and her uncle received the information in
evident disapproval.

'Gladys! Now, what on earth is the meaning of such a name? Your father
and mother ought to be ashamed of themselves! Why can't