of four thousand dollars a year, shortly after Frank had reached his
fifteenth year, it was self-evident that Frank could no longer continue
in such lowly employment.

Just at this time his Uncle Seneca, again back in Philadelphia and
stouter and more domineering than ever, said to him one day:

"Now, Frank, if you're ready for it, I think I know where there's a good
opening for you. There won't be any salary in it for the first year, but
if you mind your p's and q's, they'll probably give you something as a
gift at the end of that time. Do you know of Henry Waterman & Company
down in Second Street?"

"I've seen their place."

"Well, they tell me they might make a place for you as a bookkeeper.
They're brokers in a way--grain and commission men. You say you want
to get in that line. When school's out, you go down and see Mr.
Waterman--tell him I sent you, and he'll make a place for you, I think.
Let me know how you come out."

Uncle Seneca was married now, having, because of his wealth, attracted
the attention of a poor but ambitious Philadelphia society matron;
and because of this the general connections of the Cowperwoods were
considered vastly improved. Henry Cowperwood was planning to move with
his family rather far out on North Front Street, which commanded at that
time a beautiful view of the river and was witnessing the construction
of some charming dwellings. His four thousand dollars a year in these
pre-Civil-War times was considerable. He was making what he considered
judicious and conservative investments and because of his cautious,