"That he paid back the five hundred dollars I lent him?" "That's what I said," repeated the squire, impatiently. "Then it's a lie--not of my brother's, but of--somebody's. That money remains unpaid to this day." Squire Marlowe shrugged his shoulders. "No doubt you think so," he said, "but you are growing old, and old people are forgetful. That is the most charitable view to take of your statement." "I wouldn't have believed this, Albert," said the old man, sorrowfully. "And you a rich man, too! I don't mind the money. I can get along without it. But to be told that I am claiming what has already been repaid!" "I don't lay it up against you," went on the squire, smoothly. "I've no doubt you have forgotten the payment of the debt, and----" "I don't forget so easily, though I am sixty-five. Don't fear that I shall ask for it again--indeed, I haven't asked for it at all--but I shall not forget how you have treated my claim. Of course it amounts to nothing in law--it's outlawed long ago--but I only wish my poor brother were alive to disprove your words." Even Albert Marlowe was shamed by the old man's sorrowful dignity. "We can't agree about that, Uncle Jacob," he said; "but if ever you get very hard up, let me know, and I'll see if I can't help you--in a small way." "You are very kind," answered the old man, "but I don't think that time will come. As you say, my wants are few, and I am still able to work. I'll go up to my room and get my valise, and then I'll go over to Mary Barton's." "Thank Heaven! I've got rid of him," mused the squire, as from the doorway he saw Uncle Jacob walking slowly down the street. "I was afraid he'd mention that money he lent father. With twenty-seven years' interest it would amount to a good deal of money--more than I could well spare. I don't think I shall hear from it again." "Has he gone, Albert?" asked Mrs. Marlowe, returning to the breakfast-room. "Yes; I told him you were indisposed, and couldn't stand excitement." "No matter what you told him, as long as we are rid of him." CHAPTER VI SQUIRE MARLOWE IS SURPRISED. Mrs. Barton was washing the breakfast dishes, and was alone, Bert having gone to his daily work at the shoe shop, when the outer door opened and Uncle Jacob entered the cottage, valise in hand. "I've accepted your offer sooner than you expected, Mary," he said. "You are heartily welcome, Uncle Jacob," responded his niece, with evident sincerity. "If you can put up with our poor accommodations after being entertained in Albert's luxurious home----" "Don't trouble yourself about that, Mary," interrupted the old man. "Albert doesn't want me. He civilly asked me to find another stopping place." "You don't mean it!" exclaimed Mrs. Barton indignantly. "You see," explained Uncle Jacob, with a quiet smile, "his wife was taken suddenly indisposed--after she found I wasn't as rich as she expected."