"Five dollars more, if you please, pa," said the elegant youth. "Suppers at Delmonico's are expensive, and I don't want to economize with such a fellow as Percy." "Very well; here are five dollars more, but don't be foolishly extravagant." Clarence was about to leave the office, well satisfied, when he espied Ben. "Who do you want to see, boy?" he demanded, curtly. "I should like to speak with my uncle," answered Ben. "Then don't hang around my father's office. If your uncle is employed in this establishment, you can ask one of the floor-walkers to point him out." Ben eyed the arrogant boy in some amusement, and answered, demurely: "My uncle is Mr. Nicholas Walton, and you, I suppose, are my cousin Clarence." Clarence Plantagenet recoiled in disgust. "I don't understand you," he said. "You must be crazy." Ben was not obliged to vindicate his sanity, for his uncle, who had hitherto remained silent, now spoke. "You can come in, if you are Benjamin Baker, of Sunderland." "Thank you, Uncle Nicholas," said Ben. "Is he my cousin?" asked Plantagenet of his father, in evident discomposure. "Yes, I presume so. His mother is my sister." "Did you send for him, pa?" "No." "Then why is he here?" "I expect him to explain that to me," said Mr. Walton, coldly. "Benjamin, what brings you to New York?" "I want to get a position here, so that I may learn business. I thought you might find me a place in your store, Uncle Nicholas." "Did I not write you to stay in Sunderland?" asked Mr. Walton, coldly. "Yes." "Then why have you disobeyed me?" continued the merchant, with a frown. "Because I have no taste for farming, and there is no other employment there." "A boy like you is not qualified to judge what is best for him," said Mr. Walton, harshly. "Did I not promise, if you learned farming, that when you got older I would set you up on a farm of your own?" "I never should succeed as a farmer, for I don't like it," answered Ben. "What fault have you to find with it?" demanded the merchant, testily. "None whatever, uncle, except that I am not suited for it." "You don't look to me suited for anything else," said Clarence Plantagenet, insolently. "I don't think you know me well enough to judge what I am fit for," answered Ben, calmly. "You might make a good blacksmith, perhaps," continued Clarence, in the same offensive tone. "Isn't there any opening in that line in the country?" "There might be. The business is not to my taste, though it may be to yours." "To my taste!" ejaculated the horrified Plantagenet. "What have I to do with such a dirty business as that?" "Stop this foolish discussion, Plantagenet," said his father. "You had better go to meet your friend, Van Dyke, and I will settle matters with your cousin here." "Pack him back to the country, pa!" said Clarence. "That is the best place for him."