subscription to an hospital fund, two postal cards, one begging his
patronage towards the tailoring department of an up-town dry goods
store, and the other notifying him of a meeting of prominent citizens to
be held in the City Hall, a couple of newspapers and legal documents,
and there remained still two letters, less formidable looking, less
business-like than the rest.

As he tore open one of these he chuckled a low laugh to himself,
saying--

"It's Guy, the rascal, I suppose he has just been dunned for some little
account that requires immediate payment, it must be some mercenary cloud
that hangs over him." He was right, it was only another of these little
periodicals that Guy Elersley was accustomed to "drop" his uncle, mainly
to ask after his health and welfare, generally sliding in a P. S. which
explained the last difficulty in his balance account with the tailor or
boarding-house keeper; but Mr. Rayne made no objection, he never tired
of indulging this handsome nephew of his, for besides being of an
upright and affectionate disposition, his uncle loved him as the only
child of a favorite deceased sister, since whose death, which happened
when Guy was a mere child, Henry Rayne had been at once a kind,
indulgent uncle and a just solicitous father to the boy.

But this particular letter which Mr. Rayne now glanced over, had another
object besides the post-script and the uncle's health.

"I write so soon after my last," he says, "to tell you that I met a
gentleman in the Windsor House the other night who interested me for a
full hour in an account of an old friend of yours, this fellow's name is
Orbury, it appears he was in Europe some years ago and was one of a