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directions with alacrity.

      "Joshua will get a good supper for once," she thought, thinking more of her son than of the stranger who was to enter the family. "How surprised he will be to see such a variety on the table!"

      Not that Joshua was strictly confined to the spare diet of his father's table. Through his mother's connivance there was generally an extra piece of pie or cake in the pantry laid aside for him. Had Mr. Drummond suspected this, he would have been very angry; but, being at the store the greater portion of the time, he was not aware of the extra indulgence.

      Mr. Drummond himself met Walter at the depot.

      "I am delighted to welcome you to Stapleton, my young friend," he said, shaking his hand cordially. "In the affliction which has come upon you, let me hope that you will find a haven of rest beneath my humble roof."

      "I wonder why he always speaks of his 'humble roof,'" thought Walter. "Does he live in a shanty, I wonder?"

      He made suitable acknowledgments, and proceeded to walk beside Mr. Drummond to the house which he termed humble.

      It did not deserve that name, being a substantial two-story house, rather ugly architecturally, but comfortable enough in appearance.

      "That is my humble dwelling," said Mr. Drummond, pointing it out. "It is not equal to the splendid mansion in which you have been accustomed to live, for my worldly circumstances differ widely from those of your late lamented parent; but I trust that in our humble way we shall be enabled to make you comfortable."

      "Thank you, Mr. Drummond; I have no doubt of that. Your house looks very comfortable."

      "Yes, it is plain and humble, but comfortable. We are plain people. We are not surrounded by the appliances of wealth, but we manage, in our humble way, to get through life. That is my son Joshua, who is looking out of the front window. I hope you may become good friends, considering how nearly you are related."

      Walter raised his eyes, and saw Joshua, whose small, mean features, closely resembling his father's, expressed considerable curiosity. Walter secretly doubted whether he should like him; but this doubt he kept to himself.

      Mr. Drummond opened the outer door, and led the way in.

      "This is my wife, Mrs. Drummond," he said, as she approached, and kindly welcomed the young stranger.

      "I think I shall like her," thought Walter, suffering his glance to rest for a moment on her mild, placid features; "she is evidently quite superior to her husband."

      "Joshua, come here and welcome Mr. Conrad," said his father.

      Joshua came forward awkwardly, and held out his hand with the stiffness of a pump-handle.

      "How dy do?" he said. "Just come?"

      "Yes," said Walter, accepting the hand, and shaking it slightly.

      "Are you tired with your journey, Mr. Conrad?" asked Mrs. Drummond. "Perhaps you would like to be shown to your room."

      "Thank you," said Walter. "I will go up for a few minutes."

      "Where are you going to put our young friend, Mrs. Drummond?"

      "In the spare chamber."

      "That is right. You will find some difference, Mr. Conrad, between our humble accommodations and the sumptuous elegance of your own home; but we will try and make it up by a hearty welcome."

      "I wish he wouldn't use the word humble so much," thought Walter.

      Walter went upstairs, preceded by Mr. Drummond, who insisted on carrying his carpet-bag, for his trunk would not arrive till the next day, having been forwarded by express.

      "I say, mother," remarked Joshua, "the old man's awfully polite to this young fellow."

      "You shouldn't speak of your father in that way, Joshua."

      "Oh, what's the odds? He is an old man, isn't he? I just wish he'd be as polite to me. I say, I hope he'll like his boarding-place. What are you going to have for supper?"

      "Hot biscuit, cake, and two kinds of pie."

      "Whew! won't the old man look like a thundercloud?"

      "That's what he told me to get. You do your father injustice, Joshua."

      Mrs. Drummond knew in her secret heart that her husband was intensely mean; but she was one of those who like to think as well as possible of every one, and was glad of an opportunity to prove that he could, on rare occasions, be more generous.

      "Father's brain must be softening," said Joshua, after recovering in a measure from his astonishment. "I hope it will be permanent. Isn't supper most ready?"

      "At five o'clock, Joshua."

      "This young chap's got a lot of money, I suppose, and the governor's after some of it. That explains the matter."

      "I wish you wouldn't speak so disrespectfully of your father, Joshua."

      "I won't if he'll keep on as he's begun. I'm glad this young Conrad has come to board here. I'm going to get thick with him."

      "He seems like a very nice boy," said Mrs. Drummond.

      "I don't care what sort of a boy he is, as long as he's got the tin. I'm going to make him treat."

      "You must be considerate of his feelings, Joshua. Remember that he has just lost his father."

      "Suppose he has, there's no need of looking glum about it."

      Had Jacob Drummond died, Joshua would have borne the loss with the greatest fortitude. Of that there was no doubt. Indeed, he would rather have hailed the event with joy, if, as he expressed it, the "old man did the right thing," and left him the bulk of his property. Though such feelings did not do Joshua much credit, it must be said in extenuation that his father was far from being a man to inspire affection in any one, however nearly related.

      At five o'clock they sat down to supper.

      "I hope, Mr. Conrad," said Jacob, "you will be able to relish our humble repast."

      "Humble again!" thought Walter. He was about to say that everything looked very nice, when Joshua broke in.

      "If you call this humble, I don't know what you'd say to the suppers we commonly have."

      Mr. Drummond, who desired, for this day, at least, to keep up appearances, frowned with vexation.

      "Joshua," he said, "I desire that you will act in a more gentlemanly way, or else leave the table."

      As leaving the table on the present occasion would have been, indeed, a deprivation, Joshua thought it wise not to provoke his father too far, at any rate until after he had made sure of his supper. He therefore left most of the conversation to his father.

      "Have you ever been in Stapleton before, Mr. Conrad?" asked Mr. Drummond.

      "No, sir; never."

      "It is not a large place, but it is growing; the people are plain, but they have kind hearts. I hope you may like the town after a while."

      "Thank you, sir; I have no doubt I shall."

      "If you feel inclined for a walk, Joshua will go out with you after supper, and show you the mill-dam, the church, and the school-house. He will also point out the store—it is only across the way—where, in my humble way, I try to earn a living. I shall be very glad if you will come in and take a look inside. I may be busy, for work has accumulated during my absence, but Joshua will show you around."

      "Thank you, sir."

      "Will you have another cup of tea, Mr. Conrad?" asked Mrs. Drummond.

      "Thank you."

      "May I ask, Mr. Conrad,—excuse my intruding the question,—who is left executor of your father's estate?"

      "Mr. Shaw, the lawyer in our village."

      "Is he? Do you have confidence in him?"

      "He is an excellent man, very honest and upright. He was an intimate friend of my father."

      "Ah, indeed! I am glad of it. Then he will consult your interests."

      "Yes,

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