"I presume she has kept it secret from him." "I shall think of it when Percy gets into one of his patronizing moods." "Remember, Bert, that neither he nor his mother is any the worse for her humble birth." "I understand that, I hope, mother, just as I don't feel ashamed of our being poor." "As long as we can make an honorable living, we have no right to complain." "That reminds me, mother, that I heard bad news at the shop to-day." "What is that?" "That the shop is likely to be shut down all next month." "Why is that?" asked Mrs. Barton, an anxious look coming over her face. "I believe the market is over-supplied with shoes, and it is thought best to suspend temporarily. It'll be rather hard on me." "Yes, it will," said his mother, gravely. "I earn so little at sewing balls." "Don't you think I could get a job at that, mother?" "No, you could not do the work satisfactorily. Besides there are hands enough for all that is required. Well, we must hope for the best." "I think I can manage to earn something, mother," said Bert, hopefully. "I'll try hard, anyway." "We won't worry till the time comes, Bert." An hour later there was a knock at the door. Mrs. Barton answered it in person. "Why, Uncle Jacob, is it really you?" she exclaimed, joyfully. "I'm delighted to see you, Mary," said the old man, his face lighting up. "I've been waiting twenty-five years for this meeting." "Come right in, Uncle Jacob. I can hardly believe it is really you. Now tell me why you have not written these many years." "I've no good excuse, Mary, but perhaps I shall think of one bimeby. Now tell me how you are getting along?" "I am not rich, as you can see, Uncle Jacob; but as long as Bert and I have our health, and work to do, I shall be contented." "Do you know, Mary," said Jacob Marlowe, looking about the plain little sitting-room, "I like your house better than Albert's?" "I don't think you will find many to agree with you." "Perhaps not, but this seems like home, and that doesn't." "Albert's house is finely furnished." "True, and he lives in fine style; but I don't think I should ever be contented to live with him." "Has he invited you?" "Yes," answered Jacob; "but," he added, with a smile, "I don't think the invitation will hold good after to-morrow." "Why not?" "The fact is, Albert and the whole family think I am rich." "I shouldn't think they would judge that from your appearance." "Oh, they think I am eccentric and plain in my tastes, and that I've got my pile safe somewhere." "I wish you had, Uncle Jacob." "Happiness doesn't depend on money, Mary, as you realize in your own case. I am an old man, to be sure, but I am well and strong, and able to work for a living." "But at your age, Uncle Jacob, it would be comfortable to feel that you could rest." "Come, Mary, don't make me out a patriarch. I'm only sixty-five, and I can tackle a pretty good day's work yet." "You might be sick, Uncle Jacob."