”Mr. Stone,“ said the widow, in a troubled voice, ”I hope you will be considerate. It has been as much as I could do to get together forty-five dollars each month to pay you. Indeed, I can pay no more.“
”Pardon me for saying that that is no affair of mine,“ said the landlord brusquely. ”If you can’t pay the rent, by all means move into a smaller house. If you stay here you must be prepared to pay fifty dollars a month.“
”I don’t see how I can,“ answered the widow in dejection.
”I’ll give you three days to consider it,“ said the landlord indifferently. ”You’ll make a mistake if you give the house up. However, that is your affair.“
The landlord left the house, and Mrs. Forbush sat down depressed.
”Julia,“ she said to her daughter, ”I wish you were old enough to advise me. I dislike to move, but I don’t dare to engage to pay such a rent. Fifty dollars a month will amount to—-“
”Six hundred dollars a year!“ said Julia, who was good at figures.
”And that seems a great sum to us.“
”It would be little enough to Mrs. Pitkin,“ said Julia, who felt that lady’s prosperity unjust, while her poor, patient mother had to struggle so hard for a scanty livelihood.
”Oh, yes; Lavinia is rolling in wealth,“ sighed Mrs. Forbush. ”I can’t understand how Uncle Oliver can bestow his favors on so selfish a woman.“
”Why don’t you ask Philip’s advice about keeping the house?“ said Julia.
It must be explained that Philip and Julia were already excellent friends, and it may be said that each was mutually attracted by the other.
”Poor Philip has his own troubles,“ said Mrs. Forbush. ”He has lost his place through the malice and jealousy of Mr. and Mrs. Pitkin, for I am sure that Lavinia is the cause of his dismissal, and I don’t know when he will be able to get another.“
”You won’t send him away, mother, if he can’t pay his board?“
”No,“ answered her mother warmly. ”Philip is welcome to stay with us as long as we have a roof over our heads, whether he can pay his board or not.“
This answer seemed very satisfactory to Julia, who rose impulsively and kissed her mother.
”That’s a good mother,“ she said. ”It would be a pity to send poor Philip into the street.“
”You seem to like Philip,“ said Mrs. Forbush, smiling faintly.
”Yes, mother. You know I haven’t any brother, and Phil seems just like a brother to me.“
Just then the door opened, and Philip himself entered the room.
Generally he came home looking depressed, after a long and ineffectual search for employment. Now he was fairly radiant with joy.
”Phil, you’ve got a place; I know you have!“ exclaimed Julia, noticing his glad expression. ”Where is it? Is it a good one?“
”Have you really got a place, Philip?“ asked Mrs. Forbush.
”Yes, for the present.“
”Do you think you shall like your employer?“
”He is certainly treating me very well,“ said Phil, smiling. ”He has paid me twenty dollars in advance.“
”Then the age of wonders has not passed,“ said the widow. ”Of course I believe you, Philip, but it seems extraordinary.“
”There is something more extraordinary to come,“ said Phil. ”He has sent you some money, too.“
”Me!“ exclaimed Mrs. Forbush, in great surprise.
”What can he know about me?“
”I told him about you.“
”But we are strangers.“
”He used to know you, and still feels an interest in you, Mrs. Forbush.“
”Who can it be?“ said the widow, looking bewildered.
”I don’t want to keep you in suspense any longer, so I may as well say that it is your Uncle Oliver.“
”Uncle Oliver! Why, he is in Florida.“
”No; he came home from Charleston. I happened to be at the pier–I went down to see if I could get a job at smashing baggage–when I saw him walking down the gang-plank.“
”Has he gone to his old quarters at Mr. Pitkin’s?“
”No; what I told about the way they treated you and me made him angry, and he drove to the Astor House. I have a room there, too, and am to act as his private secretary.“