Apparently the deceased had but few relatives. But six persons were in
a small room appropriated to the mourners when our hero and his new
acquaintance entered. One of these, and far the most imposing in
appearance, was a stout lady, who quite filled up the only armchair in
the room. In a plain chair close by was a meek little man, three
inches shorter, and probably not more than half her weight. A boy and
girl, the children of the ill-matched pair, the former resembling the
father, the latter the mother, were ranged alongside. Permit me to
introduce Mr. and Mrs. Josiah Pinkerton, of Castleton, an adjoining
town. Master Albert and Miss Nancy Pinkerton.

Mrs. Pinkerton is a milliner, and her husband is her clerk and errand
boy. She has considerable business capacity, and makes enough to
support the family comfortably, besides adding something annually to
the fund in the savings bank. The relationship to the deceased is on
the side of the husband, who is a cousin. This relationship has given
rise to great expectations on the part of Mrs. Pinkerton, who fully
expects to inherit half the estate of Mr. Carter.

"If we get it, Josiah," she has promised magnificently, "I'll buy you
a new suit of clothes."

"But, Maria," expostulated the meek husband, "it will be left to me,
not to you."

"Why so?" demanded she, frowning.

"Because he is my cousin, not yours."

"You indeed!" retorted the wife, angrily; "and what do you know about