“Only with reference to domestic arrangements,” answered the housekeeper, disconcerted. “He will remain for a considerable time, Mrs. Estabrook.” “I--I thought he was only going to stay a week.” “He is company for Herbert, and I think it desirable to keep him.” “Herbert soils his clothes a deal more now than he used to do,” said the housekeeper, discontentedly. “I am sure I don't know where the other boy carries him.” “Nor I, but I am not afraid to trust him with Grant. As to the clothes, I consider them of very small account, compared with my boy's health.” Mrs. Estabrook knitted in silence for five minutes. She was by no means pleased with her employer's plan, having taken a dislike to Grant, for which, indeed, her chief reason was jealousy. She had a stepson, a young man of twenty-one, in Mr. Reynolds' office, whom she would like to have in the house in place of Grant. But Mr. Reynolds had never taken notice of her occasional hints to that effect. The housekeeper's plans were far-reaching. She knew that Herbert was delicate, and doubted if he would live to grow up. In that case, supposing her stepson had managed to ingratiate himself with the broker, why might he not hope to become his heir? Now this interloper, as she called Grant, had stepped into the place which her own favorite--his name was Willis Ford--should have had. Mrs. Estabrook felt aggrieved, and unjustly treated, and naturally incensed at Grant, who was the unconscious cause of her disappointment. She returned to the charge, though, had she been wiser, she would have foreborne. “Do you think a poor boy like this Grant Thornton is a suitable companion for a rich man's son, Mr. Reynolds? Excuse me for suggesting it, but I am so interested in dear Herbert.” “Grant Thornton is the son of a country minister, and has had an excellent training,” said the broker, coldly. “The fact that he is poor is no objection in my eyes. I think, Mrs. Estabrook, we will dismiss the subject. I think myself competent to choose my son's associates.” “I hope you will excuse me,” said the housekeeper, seeing that she had gone too far. “I am so attached to the dear child.” “If you are, you will not object to the extra trouble you may have with his clothes, since his health is benefited.” “That artful young beggar has wound his way into his employer's confidence,” thought Mrs. Estabrook, resentfully, “but it may not be always so.” A few minutes later, when the housekeeper was in her own sitting-room, she was told that Willis Ford wanted to see her. Mrs. Estabrook's thin face lighted up with pleasure, for she was devotedly attached to her stepson. “Bring him up here at once,” she said. A minute later the young man entered the room. He was a thin, sallow-complexioned young man, with restless, black eyes, and a discontented expression--as of one who thinks he is not well used by the world. “Welcome, my dear boy,” said the housekeeper, warmly. “I am so glad to see you.”