Mrs. Pitkin actually turned as pale as her sallow complexion would admit.
”I am rather surprised to hear this, I admit,“ she said. ”Was he alone, do you know?“
”No; he had a lady and a boy with him.“
”Is it possible that Uncle Oliver has been married to some designing widow?“ Mrs. Pitkin asked herself. ”It is positively terrible!“
She did not dare to betray her agitation before Mrs. Vangriff, and sat on thorns till that lady saw fit to take leave. Then she turned to Alonzo and said, in a hollow voice:
”Lonny, you heard what that woman said?“
”You bet!“
”Do you think Uncle Oliver has gone and got married again?“ she asked, in a hollow voice.
”I shouldn't wonder a mite, ma,“ was the not consolitary reply.
”If so, what will become of us? My poor boy, I looked upon you and myself as likely to receive all of Uncle Oliver's handsome property. As it is----“ and she almost broke down.
”Perhaps he's only engaged?“ suggested Alonzo.
”To be sure!“ said his mother, brightening up.
”If so, the affair may yet be broken off. Oh, Lonny, I never thought your uncle was so artful. His trip to Florida was only a trick to put us off the scent.“
”What are you going to do about it, ma?“
”I must find out as soon as possible where Uncle Oliver is staying. Then I will see him, and try to cure him of his infatuation. He is evidently trying to keep us in the dark, or he would have come back to his rooms.“
”How are you going to find out, ma?“
”I don't know. That's what puzzles me.“
”S'pose you hire a detective?“
”I wouldn't dare to. Your uncle would be angry when he found it out.“
”Do you s'pose Phil knows anything about it?“ suggested Alonzo.
”I don't know; it is hardly probable. Do you know where he lives?“
”With the woman who called here and said she was your cousin.“
”Yes, I remember, Lonny. I will order the carriage, and we will go there. But you must be very careful not to let them know Uncle Oliver is in New York. I don't wish them to meet him.“
”All right! I ain't a fool. You can trust me, ma.“
Soon the Pitkin carriage was as the door, and Mrs. Pitkin and Alonzo entered it, and were driven to the shabby house so recently occupied by Mrs. Forbush.
”It's a low place!“ said Alonzo contemptuously, as he regarded disdainfully the small dwelling.
”Yes; but I suppose it is as good as she can afford to live in. Lonny, will you get out and ring the bell? Ask if Mrs. Forbush lives there.“
Alonzo did as requested.
The door was opened by a small girl, whose shabby dress was in harmony with the place.
”Rebecca's child, I suppose!“ said Mrs. Pitkin, who was looking out of the carriage window.
”Does Mrs. Forbush live here?“ asked Alonzo.
”No, she doesn't. Mrs. Kavanagh lives here.
”Didn't Mrs. Forbush used to live here?“ further asked Alonzo, at the suggestion of his mother.
”I believe she did. She moved out a week ago.“
”Do you know where she moved to?“
”No, I don't.“
”Does a boy named Philip Brent live here?“
”No, he doesn't.“
”Do you know why Mrs. Forbush moved away?“ asked Alonzo again, at the suggestion of his mother.
”Guess she couldn't pay her rent.“
”Very likely,“ said Alonzo, who at last had received an answer with which he was pleased.
”Well, ma, there isn't any more to find out here,“ he said.
”Tell the driver--home!“ said his mother.
When they reached the house in Twelfth Street, there was a surprise in store for them.
”Who do you think's up-stairs, mum?“ said Hannah, looking important.
”Who? Tell me quick!“
”It's your Uncle Oliver, mum, just got home from Florida; but I guess he's going somewhere else mum, for he's packing up his things.“
”Alonzo, we will go up and see him,“ said Mrs. Pitkin, excited. ”I must know what all this means.“
CHAPTER XXVIII.
AN UNSATISFACTORY CONFERENCE.
MR. CARTER was taking articles from a bureau and packing them away in an open trunk, when Mrs. Pitkin entered with Alonzo. It is needless to say that his niece regarded his employment with dismay, for it showed clearly that he proposed to leave the shelter of her roof.
”Uncle Oliver!“ she exclaimed, sinking into a chair and gazing at the old gentleman spell-bound.
Mr. Carter, whose back had been turned, turned about and faced his niece.
”Oh, it is you, Lavinia!“ he said quietly.
”What are you doing?“ asked his niece.
”As you see, I am packing my trunk.“
”Do you intend to leave us?“ faltered Mrs. Pitkin.
”I think it will be well for me to make a change,“ said Mr. Carter.
”This is, indeed, a sad surprise,“ said Mrs Pitkin mournfully. When did you return from Florida?“
”I have never been there. I changed my mind when I reached Charleston.“
”How long have you been in the city?“
”About a week.“
”And never came near us. This is, indeed, unkind. In what way have we offended you?“ and Mrs. Pitkin put her handkerchief to her eyes.
There were no tears in them, but she was making an attempt to touch the heart of her uncle.
”Are you aware that Rebecca Forbush is in the city?“ asked the old gentleman abruptly.
”Ye-es,“ answered Mrs. Pitkin, startled.
”Have you seen her?“
”Ye-es. She came here one day.“
”And how did you treat her?“ asked Mr. Carter, severely. ”Did you not turn the poor woman from the house, having no regard for her evident poverty? Did you not tell her that I was very angry with her, and would not hear her name mentioned?“
”Ye-es, I may have said so. You know, Uncle Oliver, you have held no communication with her for many years.“
”That is true--more shame to me!“
”And I thought I was carrying out your wishes in discouraging her visits.“
”You also thought that she might be a dangerous rival in my favor, and might deprive you and Alonzo of an expected share in my estate.“
”Oh, Uncle Oliver! how can you think so poorly of me?“
Mr. Carter eyed his niece with a half-smile.
”So I do you injustice, do I, Lavinia?“ he returned.
”Yes, great injustice.“
”I am glad to hear it. I feel less objection now to telling you what are my future plans.“
”What are they?“ asked Mrs. Pitkin apprehensively.
”I have lived for ten years under your roof, and have had no communication, as you say, with Rebecca. I think it is only fair now that I should show her some attention. I have accordingly installed her as mistress of my house in Madison Avenue, and shall henceforth make my home with her.“
Mrs. Pitkin felt as if the earth was sinking under her feet. The hopes and schemes of so many years had come to naught, and her hated and dreaded cousin was to be constantly in the society of the rich uncle.
”Rebecca has played her cards well,“ she said bitterly.
”She has not played them at all. She did not seek me. I sought her.“
”How did you know she was in the city?“
”I learned it from--Philip!“
There was fresh dismay.
”So that boy has wormed his way into your confidence!“ said Mrs. Pitkin bitterly. ”After acting so badly that Mr. Pitkin was obliged to discharge him, he ran to you to do us a mischief.“
”Why was he discharged?“ demanded Mr. Carter sternly. ”Why did your husband seize the opportunity to get rid of a boy in whom he knew me to be interested
as soon as he thought I was out of the way? Why, moreover, did he refuse the boy a reference, without which Philip could scarcely hope to get employment?“
”You will have to ask Mr. Pitkin. I am sure he had good reason for the course he took. He's an impudent, low upstart in my opinion.“
”So he is, ma!“ chimed in Alonzo, with heartiness.
”Ah! I have something to say to you, Alonzo,“ said Mr. Carter, turning his keen glances upon the boy. ”What became of that letter I gave to you to post just before I went away?“
”I put it in the letter-box,“ said Alonzo nervously.
”Do you know what was in it?“
”No,“ answered Alonzo, but he looked frightened.
”There were ten dollars in it. That letter never reached Phil, to whom it was addressed.“
”I--don't know anything about it,“ faltered Alonzo.
”There are ways of finding out whether letters have been posted,“ said Mr. Carter. ”I might put a detective on the case.“
Alonzo turned pale, and looked much discomposed.
”Of what are you accusing my boy?“ asked Mrs. Pitkin, ready to contend for her favorite. ”So that boy has been telling lies about him, has he? and you believe scandalous stories about your own flesh and blood?“
”Not exactly that, Lavinia.“
”Well, your near relation, and that on the testimony of a boy you know nothing about. When Lonny is so devoted to you, too!“
”I never noticed any special devotion,“ said Mr. Carter, amused. ”You are mistaken, however, about Philip trying to injure him. I simply asked Philip whether he had received such a letter, and he said no.“
”I dare say he did receive it,“ said Mrs. Pitkin spitefully.
”We won't argue the matter now,“ said the old gentleman. ”I will only say that you and Alonzo, and Mr. Pitkin also, have gone the wrong way to work to secure my favor. You have done what you could to injure two persons, one your own cousin, because you were jealous.“
”You judge me very hardly, uncle,“ said Mrs. Pitkin, seeing that she must adopt a different course.
”I have no bad feeling against Rebecca, and as to the boy, I will ask my husband to take him back into the store. I am sure he will do it, because you wish it.“
”I don't wish it,“ answered Mr. Carter, rather unexpectedly.
”Oh, well,“ answered Mrs. Pitkin, looking relieved, ”that is as you say.“
”I have other views for Philip,“ said Mr. Carter.
”He is with me as my private secretary.“
”Is he living with you?“ asked his niece, in alarm.
”Yes.“
”There was no need of taking a stranger, Uncle Oliver. We should be glad to have Alonzo act as your secretary, though of course we should want him to stay at home.“
”I shall not deprive you of Alonzo,“ said Mr. Carter, with a tinge of sarcasm in his tone. ”Philip will suit me better.“
Mr. Carter turned and resumed his packing.
”Are you quite determined to leave us?“ asked Mrs. Pitkin, in a subdued tone.
”Yes; it will be better.“
”But you will come back--say after a few weeks?“
”No, I think not,“ he answered dryly.
”And shall we not see you at all?“
”Oh, I shall call from time to time, and besides, you will know where I am, and can call whenever you desire.“
”People will talk about your leaving us,“ complained Mrs. Pitkin.
”Let them talk. I never agreed to have my movements controlled by people's gossip. And now, Lavinia, I shall have to neglect you and resume my packing. To-morrow I shall bring Philip here to help me.“
”Would you like to have Alonzo help you, Uncle Oliver?“
This offer, much to Alonzo's relief, was declined. He feared that he should be examined more closely by the old gentleman about the missing money, which at that very moment he had in his pocket.
Mrs. Pitkin went down stairs feeling angry and baffled. All that she had done to retain her ascendency over Uncle Oliver had failed, and Mrs. Forbush and Philip seemed to have superseded herself and Alonzo in his regard. She conferred with Mr. Pitkin on his return from the store, but the more they considered the matter the worse it looked for their prospects.
Could anything be done?
CHAPTER XXIX.
A TRUCE.
NO MORE distasteful news could have come to the Pitkins than to learn that Philip and their poor cousin had secured a firm place in the good graces of Uncle Oliver. Yet they did not dare to show their resentment. They had found that Uncle Oliver had a will of his own, and meant to exercise it. Had they been more forbearing he would still be an inmate of their house instead of going over to the camp of their enemies, for so they regarded Mrs. Forbush and Phil.
”I hate that woman, Mr. Pitkin!“ said his wife fiercely. ”I scorn such underhanded work. How she has sneaked into the good graces of poor, deluded Uncle Oliver!“
”You have played your cards wrong, Lavinia,“ said her husband peevishly.
”I? That is a strange accusation, Mr. Pitkin. It was you, to my thinking. You sent off that errand boy, and that is how the whole thing came about. If he had been in your store he wouldn't have met Uncle Oliver down at the pier.
”You and Alonzo persuaded me to discharge him.“
”Oh, of course it's Alonzo and me! When you see Rebecca Forbush and that errand boy making ducks and drakes out of Uncle Oliver's money you may wish you had acted more wisely.“
”Really, Lavinia, you are a most unreasonable woman. It's no use criminating and recriminating. We must do what we can to mend matters.“
”What can we do?“
”They haven't got the money yet--remember that! We must try to re-establish friendly relations with Mr. Carter.“
”Perhaps you'll tell me how?“
”Certainly! Call as soon as possible at the house on Madison Avenue.“
”Call on that woman?“
”Yes; and try to smooth matters over as well as you can. Take Alonzo with you, and instruct him to be polite to Philip.“
”I don't believe Lonny will be willing to demean himself so far.“
”He'll have to,“ answered Mr. Pitkin firmly.
”We've all made a mistake, and the sooner we remedy it the better.
Mrs. Pitkin thought it over. The advice was unpalatable, but it was evidently sound. Uncle Oliver was rich, and they must not let his money slip through their fingers. So, after duly instructing Alonzo in his part, Mrs. Pitkin, a day or two later, ordered her carriage and drove in state to the house of her once poor relative.
”Is Mrs. Forbush at home?“ she asked of the servant.
”I believe so, madam,“ answered a dignified man-servant,
”Take this card to her.“
Mrs. Pitkin and Alonzo were ushered into a drawing- room more elegant than their own. She sat on a sofa with Alonzo.
”Who would think that Rebecca Forbush would come to live like this?“ she said, half to herself.
”And that boy,“ supplemented Alonzo.
”To be sure! Your uncle is fairly infatuated.“
Just then Mrs. Forbush entered, followed by her daughter. She was no longer clad in a shabby dress, but wore an elegant toilet, handsome beyond her own wishes, but insisted upon by Uncle Oliver.
”I am glad to see you, Lavinia,“ she said simply. ”This is my daughter.“
Julia, too, was stylishly dressed, and Alonzo, in spite of his prejudices, could not help regarding this handsome cousin with favor.
I do not propose to detail the interview. Mrs. Pitkin was on her good behavior, and appeared very gracious.
Mrs. Forbush could not help recalling the difference between her demeanor now and on the recent occasion, when in her shabby dress she called at the house in Twelfth Street, but she was too generous to recall it.
”As they were about to leave, Mr. Carter and Philip entered the ro
om, sent for by Mrs. Forbush.
”How do you do, Philip?“ said Mrs. Pitkin, graciously. ”Alonzo, this is Philip.“
”How do?“ growled Alonzo, staring enviously at Phil's handsome new suit, which was considerably handsomer than his own.
”Very well, Alonzo.“
”You must come and see Lonny,“ said Mrs. Pitkin pleasantly.
”Thank you!“ answered Phil politely.
He did not say it was a pleasure, for he was a boy of truth, and he did not feel that it would be.
Uncle Oliver was partially deceived by his niece's new manner. He was glad that there seemed to be a reconciliation, and he grew more cordial than he had been since his return.
After awhile Mrs. Pitkin rose to go.
When she was fairly in the carriage once more, she said passionately:
”How I hate them!“
”You were awful sweet on them, ma!“ said Alonzo, opening his eyes.
”I had to be. But the time will come when I will open the eyes of Uncle Oliver to the designs of that scheming woman and that artful errand boy.“
It was Mrs. Pitkin's true self that spoke.
CHAPTER XXX.
PHIL'S TRUST.
AMONG the duties which devolved upon Phil was Mr. Carter's bank business. He generally made deposits for Uncle Oliver, and drew money on his personal checks whenever he needed it.
It has already been said that Mr. Carter was a silent partner in the firm of which Mr. Pitkin was the active manager. The arrangement between the partners was, that each should draw out two hundred dollars a week toward current expenses, and that the surplus, if any, at the end of the year, should be divided according to the terms of the partnership.
When Phil first presented himself with a note from Mr. Carter, he was an object of attention to the clerks, who knew that he had been discharged by Mr. Pitkin. Yet here he was, dressed in a new suit provided with a watch, and wearing every mark of prosperity. One of the most surprised was Mr. G. Washington Wilbur, with whom, as an old friend, Phil stopped to chat.
”Is old Pitkin going to take you back?“ he inquired.
”No,“ answered Phil promptly. ”He couldn't have me if he wanted me.“
”Have you got another place?“
The Errand Boy; or, How Phil Brent Won Success Page 12
