for ten years under your roof, and have had no
communication, as you say, with Rebecca. I think it is only fair now
that I should show her some attention. I have accordingly installed her
as mistress of my house in Madison Avenue, and shall henceforth make my
home with her."

Mrs. Pitkin felt as if the earth was sinking under her feet. The hopes
and schemes of so many years had come to naught, and her hated and
dreaded cousin was to be constantly in the society of the rich uncle.

"Rebecca has played her cards well," she said bitterly.

"She has not played them at all. She did not seek me. I sought her."

"How did you know she was in the city?"

"I learned it from--Philip!"

There was fresh dismay.

"So that boy has wormed his way into your confidence!" said Mrs.
Pitkin bitterly. "After acting so badly that Mr. Pitkin was obliged to
discharge him, he ran to you to do us a mischief."

"Why was he discharged?" demanded Mr. Carter sternly. "Why did your
husband seize the opportunity to get rid of a boy in whom he knew me to
be interested as soon as he thought I was out of the way? Why, moreover,
did he refuse the boy a reference, without which Philip could scarcely
hope to get employment?"

"You will have to ask Mr. Pitkin. I am sure he had good reason for the
course he took. He's an impudent, low upstart in my opinion."

"So he is, ma!" chimed in Alonzo, with heartiness.

"Ah! I have something to say to you, Alonzo," said Mr. Carter, turning
his keen glances upon the boy. "What became of that letter I gave to you
to post just before I went away?"

"I put it in the letter-box," said Alonzo nervously.

"Do you know what was in it?"

"No," answered Alonzo, but he looked frightened.

"There were ten dollars in it. That letter never reached Phil, to whom
it was addressed."

"I--don't know anything about it," faltered Alonzo.

"There are ways of finding out whether letters have been posted," said
Mr. Carter. "I might put a detective on the case."

Alonzo turned pale, and looked much discomposed.

"Of what are you accusing my boy?" asked Mrs. Pitkin, ready to contend
for her favorite. "So that boy has been telling lies about him, has he?
and you believe scandalous stories about your own flesh and blood?"

"Not exactly that, Lavinia."

"Well, your near relation, and that on the testimony of a boy you know
nothing about. When Lonny is so devoted to you, too!"

"I never noticed any special devotion," said