"I don't like your tone, Gerald; you are too independent and are scarcely respectful. However, I will answer your question. Mr. Tubbs, the grocer, needs a boy to tend in his store and to help keep his books. You have studied book-keeping, I believe?" "Yes," answered Gerald, eying his stepmother, intently. "He will take you and pay you three dollars a week. You can stay at home, and I will allow you half your salary, but I shall expect you to buy your own clothing." "Out of a dollar and a half a week?" "Yes; I look upon that as a very fair income. One dollar a week will suffice for your clothes, and you will have fifty cents for spending money." Gerald's face flushed. At this rate he would derive very slight advantage from the handsome property his father left behind him. "Do you think, Mrs. Lane," he said, "that in making this arrangement you are carrying out my father's wishes?" "Probably I am as well qualified to judge on that point as you," said Mrs. Lane, stiffly. "When do you wish me to leave school?" asked Gerald, after a pause. "Mr. Tubbs wishes you to begin work a week from next Monday. You can go to school another week, if you wish." "I shall not care to do so. I shall want a week to think over the change in my life." "Just as you please." "Have you anything more to say to me?" asked Gerald rising. "Yes." To Gerald's surprise his stepmother's manner changed, and she seemed nervous and no longer cool and self-possessed. "Very well." "I am about to tell you something that may surprise you, though it was, of course, known to your father." Gerald's curiosity was excited. It must be something of importance, or Mrs. Lane's self-possession would not be disturbed. "Probably you are aware that when I married your father I was a widow." "I have heard so." "But you did not know that I have a son about your own age?" "No, I didn't know that," returned Gerald, his face showing his amazement. "Why have I never seen the boy? Why did you not bring him here?" he asked. "Your father thought it was not best. He thought you and Abel might not agree." "Am I so difficult to get along with, then?" "Ahem! You are very independent and self-opinioned." "And Abel?" "He has quite a proper pride. You would probably have made him feel that he was in an inferior position, and then there would have been trouble." "Still I don't see why his existence should have been concealed from me?" "Your father thought it best." Gerald eyed his stepmother thoughtfully. Was this true—this statement of hers? Not about the boy's existence—he had no doubt of that—but as to his father's being in the plot to keep it secret. "Where, then, is Abel, since he has never been here?" he asked. "He has been at a boarding-school, fifty miles away, in the town of Fulton. I am expecting him here to-night." "So the secret is out!" thought Gerald. "But is there not the same objection as before?" he asked. "Perhaps we may not agree."