“I have seen it to-night. The girl has it, and showed it to me; and now I want you to live up to your promises,” replied her husband, gravely. “She ought to be thankful that she has a roof to shelter her. Do you suppose I am going to allow her to interfere with Josephine’s rights?” “Certainly not; but this girl is exceedingly bright and pretty; let them become mates and share alike, and I’ll wager that Star will never abuse your indulgence,” Mr. Richards said, generously. “And who may ‘Star’ be?” demanded his wife, scornfully. “Why, Stella, of course—Star was the name, I suppose, by which she was known at home. Now, I insist,” he continued, with decision, “that this child be given a fair chance.” “How about retrenchment if you have _two_ fine young ladies to support instead of one?” sneered Mrs. Richards. “Oh, bother! we’ll make it up in some other way. I’ll sell one of my horses; you can give up a new gown once in awhile.” “Not if I know myself, Mr. Richards. I do not intend that this girl shall interfere with my comfort in the least degree,” interrupted the lady, with a frown. “Well, we will manage in some way; but,” he added, beginning to get out of patience with her selfishness and heartlessness, “I swear, if you won’t promise to treat her considerately, and she repudiates you as her guardian, I will get her to choose me in your place, and I’ll treat her like a young princess—send her to Vassar, or any other first-class school she may choose, regardless of the cost.” “George Richards,” cried his wife, with flashing eyes, “if you take up weapons against me in this way, I never will forgive you.” “Can’t help it,” he retorted, coolly. “I’ll not have that girl made a common drudge of in this house while I am master here. How you could meditate such a thing for a moment is more than I can understand. Where is the gratitude for the life which her mother saved for you so many years ago?” Mrs. Richards started slightly. She had not intended that her husband should ever know of the debt which she owed Star’s mother. “I suppose she had to twit you of that in order to gain her point and make you her champion,” she said, sarcastically. “No, indeed. I asked her what her father meant by his allusion to the service rendered you, and to which he referred in his letter, and she told me of course, though in a very modest way, that her mother once saved you from drowning. Now, I want you to change your tactics. I want you to allow her to be one of the family.” “I _never_ will do that, Mr. Richards, and it is useless for you to suggest it,” Mrs. Richards interrupted, hotly. “I could never endure the sight of the girl at my table after this, and Josephine, I know, would not consent to it. Any one can see by the course she has pursued to-night with you that she is full of art and intrigue, and would not hesitate to interfere with Josie’s plans and prospects.”