"That boy is in the way," she said to herself, when she was left
alone. "He is in my way, and Tom's way. I can see that he is artfully
intriguing for Mr. Wharton's favor, but I must checkmate him. It's odd,"
she resumed, after a pause, "but there is something in his face and
voice that seems familiar to me. What is it?"


* * * * *


The following evening the housekeeper received another visit from her
nephew.

"How do, aunt?" said Thomas Bradley, carelessly, as he entered the
housekeeper's room.

"Very well, thank you, Thomas. I am glad you are here. I have been
wanting to see you."

"The old man isn't going to do anything for me, is he?"

"How can you expect it so soon? He doesn't know you yet. How much do you
think he pays the cash-boy that reads to him in the evening?"

"I don't know."

"Five dollars a week."

"I wouldn't give up my evenings for that," he said.