s from the city, who
considered that the invigorating sea air, with its healthful influences,
counterbalanced the rather primitive accommodations and homely fare with
which they must perforce be content.

By hook or crook Nahum Jones--or Nick Jones as he was called--had
managed to accumulate a snug competence, but much of it was gained by
his profit on liquor.

He was a thrifty man, whose thrift extended to meanness, and his wife
was thoroughly selfish. They had but one child--a daughter--who bade
fair to be an old maid.

Though Robert had made no objection to carry the work to the tavern, he
didn't enjoy his visit in anticipation.

He disliked both Mr. and Mrs. Jones, but felt that this must not
interfere with his aunt's business.

He went round to a side door and knocked. The door was opened by the
daughter--Selina Jones.

"Well, Robert," she said abruptly, "what's wanted?"

"Is your mother at home?"

"I suppose she is."

"Can I see her?"

"I don't know--I guess she's busy. Won't I do as well?"

"I would rather see your mother."

Upon this Selina summoned her mother, not thinking it necessary to
invite our hero into the house.

"Oh, I see!" said Mrs. Jones as she glanced at the bundle in Robert's
hand. "You've brought back the work I gave your aunt."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Let me look at it."

She took the bundle, opened it and ran her eye rapidly over it.

"It'll do," she said. "Might have been better done, but it'll answer."

She was about to close the door, as if her business with Robert was at
an end, but this did not suit our hero.

"It will be twenty-five cents," he said in a business-like tone.

"Were you afraid I would forget to pay you?" asked Mrs. Jones rather
sourly.

"No, ma'am, but I supposed you would like to know how much it would
be."

"Very well; now I know."

If Robert had been easily abashed he would have dropped the matter there
and suffered her to take her time about paying, but he knew that his
aunt's intended purchasing must be made with ready money and he
persisted.

"I would like the money now," he said, "for I am going to the store to
buy something."

"It seems to me you are in a great hurry," said Mrs. Jones
unpleasantly.

"So would you be, Mrs. Jones," said Robert bluntly, "if you were as poor
as my aunt."

"Folks needn't be poor if they are smart," said the landlord's wife.

"I suppose you know where my uncle's money goes?" said Robert
pointedly.

Mrs.