A white-haired man, with small, shrewd eyes which twinkled beneath bushy brows, looked up from the letter he was writing. His forehead was high and retreating, his nose suggestive of good dinners; and his whole bearing had that firmness only obtained by the use as a tonic of the elixir of gold. Flora had been from childhood forbidden to address him as uncle, and he understood at once that she felt sure of her ground to-day, or she would not have ventured upon the term. The lawyer paused almost perceptibly before he answered her salutation. "Good-morning," he said. "Sit down." "Thanks," answered the visitor, leisurely seating herself. "This office is so much nicer than your old one! I hope you are well, uncle." "I am well enough," he returned gruffly. "What is this wonderful business which brings you to Boston?" "You know I always do you a good turn when I can," remarked Miss Sturtevant by way of introduction. "Yes," he assented. "You find it pays." "You may or may not remember," she went on with great deliberation, "that you once requested me to discover for you--or for a client, you said--what became of certain papers which you drew up for Mr. Mullen of Montfield." "I remember," the other said, his eyes twinkling more than ever. "I had hard work enough," Flora continued, "to trace them as far as I did, and little gratitude I got for my pains." "You did not discover where the papers were?" "I found that they had been in the possession of Mrs. Smithers." "Her name," Mr. Wentworth remarked, pressing softly together the tips of his plump fingers, "is not Mrs. Smithers. She never married. It is best to be exact." "Miss Clemens, then," said Flora. "I know now where those papers are." "You do?" the old lawyer cried, at last showing some excitement. "Where are they?" "That is my secret," she answered, with the faintest smile, and a nod of her head. "When is that directors' meeting?" "Next Tuesday," replied Mr. Wentworth. He knew his interlocutor well enough to allow her to take her own way in the conversation, fully aware that she would not idly turn from the subject in hand. "And you then decide whether to buy the Samoset and Brookfield Branch?" "Yes," he said. "Do you object to telling me how you discovered that?" "I have my living to earn," she answered, smiling, "and it is necessary that I keep my eyes and ears open. Could you promise me, if you chose, that the decision should be to buy the Samoset and Brookfield Branch?" "If I chose, I dare say I could," the lawyer affirmed. "My own vote, and others upon which I can count, will turn the scale." "Very well. Do you accept my terms?" "By George!" exclaimed Wentworth, slapping his palm upon his knee. "What a long head you have, Flora! You are like your mother, and she was a devilish smart woman, or she wouldn't have married my brother."