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a good boy," said Uncle Obed to himself. "I wish he was mynephew. Somehow, that stuck-up Philip, with his high-and-mighty airs, doesn't seem at all kin to me."

      Harry went home in excellent spirits. It would be of advantage to themto have a boarder, as it would give them a steady, even if small, income.

      "I wonder what he'll be able to pay?" he said to himself. "If he pays asmuch as I used to get – four dollars a week – it'll make us all right, forI'm sure of earning as much as two dollars a week, even if I don't get aplace."

      His mother brightened up, too, when Harry told her of the prospect thatopened up of making up for his lost wages. It was a timely help, andboth mother and son regarded it as such.

      CHAPTER IX

      NOTICE TO QUIT

      "Strike while the iron's hot!" This was the motto of Mrs. Ross, especially in a matter of this kind. She was firmly resolved to get ridof Uncle Obed as soon as she could.

      She had always claimed to be of high family, and to have been brought upin the same style in which she was now living, and here was a witnesswho could disprove all she had said.

      No one knew better than Uncle Obed that she had been very poor in herearly days, for it was he who, out of his small means, had contributedto support her mother and herself. Any day he might refer to those yearsof poverty; and Mrs. Ross felt that she should expire of mortificationif her servants should hear of them. Farewell, then, to her aristocraticclaims, for she knew well enough that they would be ready enough tospread the report, which would soon reach the ears of all heracquaintances. By way of precaution she took an opportunity ofpresenting her version of the story to Nancy, who waited on the table.

      "Mr. Wilkins is rather a strange old man, Nancy," she said, affably, as

      Nancy was clearing off the breakfast table the next morning.

      "Is he really your uncle, mum?" asked Nancy.

      Mrs. Ross wished she could deny it, but felt that she would be found outin falsehood.

      "Yes, Nancy, I confess that he is. There is a black sheep in everyfamily, and poor Uncle Obed was the black sheep in ours."

      "You don't say so, mum! He seems harmless enough."

      "Oh, yes. There's no harm in him; but he's so rustic. Poor grandpa triedto polish him by sending him to expensive schools, but it was no use. Hetook no interest in books, and wouldn't go to college" – Uncle Obed wouldhave opened his eyes if he had heard this – "and so grandpa bought him afarm, and set him up in business as a farmer. He was rather shiftless, and preferred the company of his farm laborers to going into thefashionable society the rest of the family moved in; and so all his lifehe has been nothing but a rough, unrefined farmer."

      "What a pity, mum."

      "Yes, it is a pity, but I suppose it was in him. Of course, it is verymortifying to me to have him come here – so different as he is from therest of us. I am sure you can understand that, Nancy."

      "Oh, yes, mum."

      "He won't feel at home among us, and I think I shall ask Colonel Ross topay his fare back to Illinois, and give him a pension, if he reallyneeds it. I dare say he has lost his farm, and is destitute, for henever knew how to take care of money."

      "That would be very kind of you and the colonel, mum," said Nancy, whodidn't believe half her mistress was saying, but thought it might be forher interest to pretend she did.

      "By the way, Nancy, I think I shall not need any more the mantilla youlike so well. You can have it, if you like."

      "Oh, thank you, mum," exclaimed Nancy, in surprise.

      For she had never before received a present from her mistress, who waswell known to be mean and penurious.

      The mantilla was a handsome one, and she thanked Mrs. Ross effusively.

      "There, I've managed her," thought Mrs. Ross, "though at the expense ofthe valuable mantilla. I grudge it to her, but it is best to guard heragainst any of Uncle Obed's stories, at any cost. I must get rid of himas soon as I can."

      Colonel Ross wished his wife to postpone speaking for a week, but thisshe was unwilling to promise. She agreed to let her uncle stay a week, but insisted on giving him notice to quit sooner.

      On the morning of the third day she found her opportunity. Breakfast wasover, and she left alone with the old man.

      "Mr. Wilkins," she said, "I want to have a talk with you."

      "Certainly, Lucindy, you can talk just as much as you please. But whatmakes you call me Mr. Wilkins? When you were a little girl, and cameover with a message from your mother, it was always Uncle Obed."

      "It is so long since I have seen you that I hardly feel like speaking sofamiliarly," said Mrs. Ross.

      "You'll feel better acquainted after a while, Lucindy."

      "That shows he expects to stay a long time," thought Mrs. Ross.

      "Don't you think you made a mistake in leaving Illinois?" asked Mrs.

      Ross, point-blank.

      "Well, perhaps I did," admitted Uncle Obed.

      "Of course you did. You are too old to come to a new place where youdon't know anybody. Now, out there you knew – "

      "Pretty nigh everybody."

      "Exactly."

      "But out there I hadn't any relations left. After my poor Mary died Ifelt lonesome."

      "Still, as you hadn't seen us for so many years, we are almost the sameas strangers."

      "I can't forget, Lucindy, how you and your poor mother struggled along, and how I tried to help – "

      "We won't recall those old times," said Mrs. Ross, impatiently. "I wasgoing to say you wouldn't be happy here. We don't as you were accustomedto do; and, in fact, it would be inconvenient for us to have a newinmate. My health is delicate, and – "

      "You look pretty rugged, Lucindy."

      "Appearances are deceitful," said Mrs. Ross, nodding her head solemnly.

      "I am very nervous and all excitement is bad for me."

      "I hope I haven't excited you, Lucindy," said Uncle Obed. "I thought Iwas pretty quiet. As to the work, you've got two girls to help in thekitchen."

      "Yes; but there's a certain amount of care that falls upon me which youcan't understand."

      "I hope you won't alter your living for me, Lucindy. I'm one of your ownfolks, and I don't mind a picked-up dinner now and then."

      "The ridiculous old man," thought Mrs. Ross, impatiently. "As if I'dalter my style of living for a destitute old man that looks as ifhe'd just escaped from an almshouse."

      "We always live the same, company or no company," she said, coldly.

      "If we don't change for fashionable visitors from New York and

      Philadelphia, it is hardly likely would for you."

      "I'm glad I don't give you any trouble."

      "But," continued Mrs. Ross, "it is worrying to my nerves to havecompany."

      "Then I shouldn't think you'd invite those fashionable people from New

      York and Philadelphia," said Obed, slyly.

      "Plague take him!" thought Mrs. Ross; "won't he take a hint? I shallhave to speak more plainly. Indeed," said she, "I was surprised youshould come in upon us without writing, or inquiring whether it would beconvenient for us to receive you."

      "I begin to understand," said Uncle Obed. "I ain't welcome here."

      "Well, you can stay a few days, if you desire it," said Mrs. Ross, "butyou will be much happier in your old home than here."

      "I ought to be the best judge of that, Lucindy," said the old man, withdignity.

      "Perhaps not. People can't always judge best for themselves."

      "Perhaps not;

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