Her mother was in the way in the sitting-room, she thought, and whenever she had reason for expecting him, she made a fire in the parlor, shutting up the stove and turning down the lamp until the ringing of the bell announced his arrival; then, while old Peggy hobbled to the door, she opened the draught and turned up the lamp, so that by the time Mr. Howland was ushered in, everything looked cheerful and inviting. By this means, too, she escaped another annoyance, that of being urged to play; for, if Mr. Howland did not see the piano, he was not as likely to ask her to sing, and she had already nearly exhausted her powers of invention in excuses for her indifferent playing and the style of her music. Ma insisted upon her taking old pieces, she said, but by and by, when she had a new piano, she should do differently. Fortunately for her, Mr. Howland was not a musical man and was thus more easily deceived. On the evening of which we are speaking, after listening a while to her sprightly remarks, he suddenly changed the conversation by saying he had been to see Mr. Warren. “And he told me,” said he, “that he once did business with your father.” Turning her face away to hide its startled expression, Adelaide asked hastily: “What else did he tell you?” “Nothing,” returned Mr. Howland. “He would not talk of the past.” “I should not suppose he would,” quietly rejoined Adelaide—then, after a moment, coming to his side, she continued, “Mr. Howland, I wish you would promise never to mention that subject again, either to me or those Warrens. It can do no good, and a knowledge of the truth might injure some people in your estimation. Promise me, will you?” Her hand was laid imploringly upon his arm, her handsome, dark eyes looked beseechingly into his, and as most men under similar circumstances would have done, he promised, while Adelaide mentally congratulated herself upon the fact that his business never took him to the city where she had formerly lived, and where the name of Huntington had scarcely yet ceased to be a by-word in the street. Mr. Howland was much pleased with her, she knew, and if they could manage to keep up appearances a little longer, he might be secured. One thing, however, troubled her. Pay-day was near at hand, but alas for the wherewithal to pay. It was not in her mother’s purse, nor yet in any other purse whence they could procure it. Still Adelaide trusted much to her inventive genius, and when she bade Mr. Howland good night, chatting gayly as she accompanied him to the door, he little dreamed how her mind was distracted with ways and means by which to dupe him still more effectually. * * * * * Three weeks passed away, and then, as Miss Elinor sat one evening with her brother, she asked him if Mrs. Huntington’s rent were not that day due.