lls
had been left unpaid through his mother's illness, and that the family
were in straitened circumstances. His own law practice so far had
yielded scant returns, and what to do and where to turn was a puzzle. He
wrote to a former classmate whose father was a prominent merchant in
Boston, stating his situation and asking advice. It was two weeks ere he
received a reply, and then, though a cordial letter of sympathy, it did
not go far toward solving the problem. A week later, however, came a
letter from a lawyer in that city by the name of Frye, offering him a
position as assistant in his office at a small salary. It was so small
that Albert thought it a hopeless task to pay home expenses out of it
and leave anything towards their debts. It was more than his present
income, however, and yet to accept the offer and leave Aunt Susan and
Alice alone seemed hard. On the other hand, to borrow money on what
little of the farm was left did not help matters, for when that was
gone, what then?

Matters came to a climax one day, and ended his indecision. He had been
away from his office all that afternoon, taking a long stroll in the
woods to escape his loneliness, and returning at tea time, found a cloud
on his sister's face.

"Mr. Hobbs called this afternoon," she said as they sat down to the
table, "and asked for you. Said he went to your office, and not finding
you in, came here." And then she added with a quiver in her voice, "Oh,
Bertie, we owe him over one hundred dollars!"

The trouble was all out now, and Albert looked gloomy. "I don't think
any more of him for coming here to dun us," he answered savagely; "he
might have waited until he saw me."

"Oh, he was very nice about it," responded Alice, "and begged my pardon
for speaking of it. He said there was no hurry, only that he had made
out his bill as a matter of form, etc., and we could pay it when
convenient."

Albert made no further comment, but when the meal was ended, said: "Come
out on the porch, sis, and let us talk matters over." She followed him,
feeling there was trouble coming, and drawing her low chair next to his,
placed one elbow on his chair arm and covered her face with that hand.
For a few moments he remained silent, watching the fireflies beginning
their evening dance over the meadow and listening to the distant call of
a whippoorwill. Across the valley the village lights were coming in
sight, one by one, and a faint odor of new-mown hay came to h