here he had been invited to take his meals.

He was willing to have the furniture sold to defray his father's small
debts, but the violin was his own. It had not even been given him by his
father. Though the latter purchased it, the money which it cost had been
given to Philip by a friend of the family. He rightly thought that he
had no call to sell it now.

"Frank," said he to his boy-friend, "I want you to put away my violin
safely, and keep it until after the auction."

"Of course I will, Phil; but won't you want to play on it!"

"Not at present. I'll tell you why I want it put away."

And Philip told his friend about Nick's application to purchase it, and
the liberal offer he had made.

"Nick's generosity never will hurt him much," said Frank, laughing.
"What in the world did he want of your violin?"

"He wants to make himself popular with the girls."

"He'll never do that, even if he learns to play like an angel!" said
Frank. "You ought to hear the girls talk about him. He couldn't get a
single one of them to go home with from singing-school last winter. He
teased my sister to go, but she told him every time she was engaged to
some one else."

The two days that intervened between the funeral and the auction passed,
and the last scene connecting Philip with the little cottage which had
been his home was to take place.

In a country town, an auction-however inconsiderable-draws together an
interested company of friends and neighbors; and, though no articles of
value were to be sold, this was the case at the present sale.

Philip didn't at first mean to be present. He thought it would only give
him pain; but at the last moment he came, having been requested to do so
by Squire Pope, as information might be required which he could give.

The bulk of the furniture was soon disposed of, at low prices, to
be sure, but sufficiently high to make it clear that enough would be
realized to pay the small bills outstanding.

Philip's lip quivered when his father's watch was put up. He would have
liked to buy it, but this was impossible; for he had only about a dollar
of his own.

Nick Holden's eyes sparkled when he saw the watch. He had forgotten
about that, but as soon as he saw it he coveted it. He had a cheap
silver watch of his own, which he had bought secondhand about three
years before. He had thought that he might some day possess a gold
watch, but he was not willing to lay out the necessary sum of money.