nt near the store,'" mimicked the older.

"And when we told her it was all a sell, she was madder than ever."

"Your mother never could see a joke," sighed Mr. Bowdoin. "She says
the statue's improper, and she's trying to get it exchanged for
chandeliers. She wouldn't speak to me when I went to bed; and I told
her I'd a bad cold on my lungs, and she'd repent it when I was gone.
But to-day she's madder yet."

Mr. James Bowdoin looked at his father inquiringly.

Mr. Bowdoin laughed aloud. "She hadn't a good night, she says."

"Dear me," said the younger man, "I'm sorry."

"Yes. I'd a bad cold, and I spoke very hoarsely when I went to bed.
And in the night she woke up and heard a croupy sound. It was this,"
and Mr. Bowdoin produced a compressible rubber ball with a squeak in
it. "'James,' said she--you know how she says 'James'?"

Mr. James Bowdoin admitted he had heard the intonation described.

"'James,' says she, 'is that you?' I only squeaked the ball, which I
had under the bedclothes. 'James, are you ill?' 'It's my chest,' I
squeaked faintly, and squeezed the ball again. 'I think I'm going to
die,' said I, and I squeaked it every time I breathed." And Mr.
Bowdoin gave audible demonstration of the squeak of his rubber toy.
"Well, she was very remorseful, and she got up to send for the doctor;
and faith, I had to get up and go downstairs after her and speak in my
natural voice before she'd believe I wasn't in the last gasp of a
croup. But she won't speak herself this morning," added the old
gentleman rather ruefully. "What's the matter here?"

"Jamie has been down, and he says his son-in-law has decided to leave
the bank."

"Dear me! dear me!" The old gentleman's face grew grave again.
"Nothing wrong in his accounts, I hope?"

"He says that he has decided to go to New York to live."

"Go to New York! What'll become of the new house?"

"He has friends there. They are to sell the house."

"What'll become of Jamie?"

"Jamie's going back to Salem Street."

The old gentleman gave a low whistle. "I must see him," and he took
his hat again and started up the street.

But from Jamie he learned nothing. The old man gave no reason, save
that his son-in-law "was going to New York, where he had friends." It
cost much to the old clerk to withhold from Mr. Bowdoin anything that
concerned his own affairs, particularly when the old gentleman urged
that he be permitted to use his influence to reinstate David at the