LITMIR.BIZ

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door was opened by a servant, who, on seeing the old man, said, pertly:

      "We've got nothing for the likes of you," and was about to close thedoor on the two.

      "Stop!" said Harry, in a commanding voice, for he was provoked with thegirl's ill manners. "Tell Mrs. Ross that her uncle is here. I thinkyou'd better invite him in."

      "Well, I never!" said the girl, abashed. "I hope you'll excuse me, sir.

      Walk into the parlor, and I'll tell Mrs. Ross you are here."

      "Won't you come in, Harry?" asked the old man, who seemed to have takena liking to his young guide.

      "No, thank you, sir. I shall see you again, if you are going to stay inthe village."

      "Thank you! you're a good boy," and the old man began to fumble in hispocket.

      "Oh, no. I can't take anything," said Harry hurriedly.

      Even if the old man had been rich, he would have declinedcompensation – much more when he looked very poor.

      "Well, well! I'm much obliged to you, all the same."

      Leaving Harry to find his way home, let us see what sort of receptionthe old man had from his niece.

      Within five minutes Mrs. Ross sailed into the room.

      "Why, Lucinda!" said the old man, heartily; "it's a long time since Imet you."

      "I do not remember ever having seen you," said Mrs. Ross, frigidly.

      "I haven't seen you since you were a little girl, for I've been livingaway out in Illinoy. I'm your Uncle Obed – Obed Wilkins – brother of yourmother."

      "Indeed!" said Mrs. Ross, coldly, eyeing the old man's shabby attirewith something like disdain. "You must be an old man!"

      "Seventy-two, Lucinda. I was born in October, while your mother was twoyears younger than I, and born in August. I didn't think to outlive her, seeing she was younger, but I have."

      "I think it was imprudent in a man of your age coming so far," said Mrs.

      Ross.

      "I was all alone, Lucinda. My daughter died last spring, and I wanted tobe near some one that was akin to me, so I've come to see the onlyrelations I've got left on earth."

      "That's very cool," thought Mrs. Ross. "He expects us to support him, Isuppose. He looks as poor as poverty. He ought to have gone to thepoorhouse in his old home."

      To be sure, she would not like to have had it known that she had anuncle in the poorhouse; but, so far away as Illinois, it would not havebeen known to any of her Eastern friends, and wouldn't matter so much.

      "I will speak to Colonel Ross about it, Mr. Wilkins," she said, coldly.

      "You can stay to supper, and see him then."

      "Don't call me Mr. Wilkins. I'm your Uncle Obed," said the old man.

      "You may be my uncle, but I am not sufficiently acquainted with you yetfor that," she answered. "You can come upstairs, if you feel tired, andlie down till supper time."

      "Thank you, I will," said Uncle Obed.

      The offer of Mrs. Ross was dictated not so much by kindness as by thedesire to get her shabby uncle well out of the way, and have a chancefor a private conference with her husband, whom she expected everyminute.

      If the unannounced visit of Uncle Obed may be thought to need an excuse, it can easily be found. For years, when Mrs. Ross was a girl, she andher mother were mainly supported by the now despised uncle, without whomthey might have become dependent upon charity.

      It was not a time that Mrs. Ross, in her present luxury, liked to thinkabout, and for years she had not communicated with the uncle to whom sheowed so much.

      Full of charity himself, he was unconscious of her lack of gratitude, and supposed that her failure to write was owing to lack of time. He hadcome in good faith, when bereft of his daughter, to renew acquaintancewith his niece, never dreaming how unwelcome he would be. Philip'srudeness impressed him unpleasantly, but, then, the boy had never seenhim before, and that was some excuse.

      CHAPTER VII

      AN UNWELCOME GUEST

      "I don't believe that old tramp's my great-uncle," said Philip Ross tohimself, but he felt uneasy, nevertheless.

      It hurt his pride to think that he should have such a shabby relation, and he resolved to ascertain by inquiry from his mother whether therewere any grounds for the old man's claim.

      He came into the house just after Uncle Obed had been shown upstairs bythe servant, not to the spare room, but to a small, inconvenient bedroomon the third floor, next to the one occupied by the two servants.

      "Mother," asked Philip, "is it really true?"

      "Is what really true?"

      "That that shabby old man is any relation of ours?"

      "I don't know with certainty," answered his mother. "He says he is, but

      I shouldn't have known him."

      "Did you have any uncle in Illinois?"

      "Yes, I believe so," Mrs. Ross admitted, reluctantly.

      "You always said you were of a high family," said Philip, reproachfully.

      Mrs. Ross blushed, for she did not like to admit that her pretensions toboth were baseless. She was not willing to admit it now, even toPhilip.

      "It is true," she replied, in some embarrassment; "but there's always ablack sheep in every flock."

      Poor Obed! To be called a black sheep – a hard-working, steady-going manas he had been all his life.

      "But my mother's brother, Obed, strange to say, was always rustic anduncouth, and so he was sent out to Illinois to be a farmer. We thoughtthat the best place for him – that he would live and die there; but now, in the most vexatious manner in the world, he turns up here."

      "He isn't going to stay here, is he?" asked Philip, in dismay.

      "No; we must get rid of him some way. I must say it was a very coolproceeding to come here without an invitation, expecting us to supporthim."

      This was a gratuitous assumption on the part of Mrs. Ross.

      "I suppose he's very poor. He doesn't look as if he had a cent. Ipresume he is destitute, and expects us to take care of him."

      "You'd better send him packing, mother."

      "I suppose we shall have to do something for him," said Mrs. Ross, in atone of disgust. "I shall advise your father to buy a ticket for him, and send him back to Illinois."

      "That'll be the best way, mother. Start him off to-morrow, if you can."

      "I won't keep him long, you may be sure of that."

      By this time Colonel Ross had reached home, and his wife communicated tohim the unwelcome intelligence of Uncle Obed's arrival, and advised himas to the course she thought best to pursue.

      "Poor old man!" said the colonel, with more consideration than his wifeor son possessed. "I suppose he felt solitary out there."

      "That isn't our lookout," said Mrs. Ross, impatiently. "It's rightenough to say poor old man. He looks as poor as poverty. He'll be betteroff in Illinois."

      "Perhaps you are right, but I wouldn't like to send him offempty-handed. I'll buy his ticket, and give him fifty dollars, so thathe need not suffer."

      "It seems to me that is too much. Twenty dollars, or ten, would beliberal."

      The cold-hearted woman seemed to forget the years during which her unclehad virtually supported her.

      "No, Lucinda; I shall give him fifty."

      "You should think of your son, Colonel Ross," said his wife. "Don'timpoverish him by your foolish generosity."

      Colonel Ross shrugged his shoulders.

      "Philip will have all the money that will be good for him," he said.

      "Very

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