me saying it, rather pigheaded, and'--

'Don't let us speak about him if you do not feel kindly to him!' cried
the girl, her great eyes flashing, her slender frame trembling with
indignation. 'I will not listen, I will go away and leave you, Uncle
Abel, if you speak harshly of papa.'

'So'--Abel Graham slapped his knee as he uttered this meditative
monosyllable, and continued to regard his niece with keener scrutiny, if
that were possible, than before. 'It is John's temper--a very firebrand.
My dear, you are very young, and you should not be above taking advice.
Let me advise you to control that fiery passion. Temper doesn't pay--it
is one of the things which nothing can ever make pay in this world.
Well, will you be so kind as to give me a little insight into the state
of your affairs? A poor enough state they appear to be in, if this
parson writes truly--only parsons are accustomed to draw the long bow,
for the purpose of ferreting money out of people's pockets. Well, my
dear, have you nothing to tell me?'

Gladys continued to look at him with dislike and distrust she made no
attempt to disguise. If only he would not call her 'my dear.' She
resented the familiarity. He had no right to presume on such a short
acquaintance.

'I have nothing to tell you, I think,' she said very coldly, 'except
that papa is dead, and I have to earn my own living.'

[Illustration]