bear your case in mind, Mr. Bradley."

"Thank you, sir," said Thomas. "I am sure I earn a thousand dollars a
year."

"I think, Thomas," said Mrs. Bradley, "we won't intrude on Mr. Wharton
longer this evening. When he finds something for you he will tell me."

"All right, aunt. Good-night, Mr. Wharton. Good-night, Cash," said
Thomas, chuckling anew at the old joke.

"Well, aunt," said he, when they were once more in the housekeeper's
room, "do you think the old gentleman will do anything for me?"

"I hope so; but I am not sure, Thomas, whether you were not too
familiar. You spoke of money too quick."

"It's my way to come to business."

"I wish you were his reader, instead of that boy."

"Well, I don't. I wouldn't want to be mewed up in that room with the old
man every night. I should get tired to death of it."

"You would have a chance to get him interested in you. That boy is
artful; he is doing all he can to win Mr. Wharton's favor. He is the one
you have most reason to dread."

"Do you think he will do me any harm?"