And still she did not speak. Then William, true knight, threw down his cap, placed a chair for her, carefully laid her parasol on his desk, and waited. Presently, "Boy," she said gently, "where did you learn that?" "I read it somewhere," he said, "some of it, and I guess I just made up the rest. I can't help it, lady. I often have them kinder spells." She was looking at him thoughtfully, and William blushed under her scrutiny. "Don't be ashamed, boy," she said. "'Them kinder spells'"--and she mimicked him so well that William laughed outright, "will carry you a long way some day. You may sit down." William sat, and thereupon Dick, his mistress having loosened her hold upon the chain, ambled over and placed his solemn-faced visage as close to the boy's knees as he could get it. William lifted the dog which snuggled close to his breast. "If Dick likes you there must be some good in you," said the lady: and her voice was again sharp and firm. "Where's Whimple?" "He'll be here soon, I expect." "Umph! Poking around the law courts I suppose. He's never been here when I want him." "Mister Whimple is a busy man," said William loyally. "Don't lie to me," was the sharp rejoinder, "I'm a Whimple. Miss Elizabeth Whimple, if you want to know, and I'm his aunt. He would be a fool and enter law against my advice, and I hope he'll starve for it." William's eyes narrowed. "Did you ever try starving, Miss Whimple?" he demanded. "Heavens, no!--what would I want to try that for?" "Well, I'm glad if you never have to," was the answer. "My Dad came near to it sometimes before he got onter his feet, and I ain't very old myself, but I've seen the day I'd walked a long way to get my teeth into a piece of beef-steak." "I don't believe you." "Well, of course, you don't have to," said William calmly. "That's a funny thing about grown-ups. They'll believe any old lie if it's in print, but the minute anybody tells 'em the truth straight outen his heart, they don't----" "Boy," she interrupted sharply, "don't preach to me!" "Preach! me preach!" "Yes; you may not call it that, but it's preaching just the same. Now, where's Whimple?" "Honest, lady, I don't know. He----" And here Whimple entered by the back door. For collectors were beginning at this time to come in with requests for payments of the monthly bills incidental to the upkeep of an office, and it was the part of wisdom to ascertain before entering the office whether any such were "at anchor." His aunt greeted him with a fair amount of cheerfulness, and at once informed him that she had come to ask that he look after the interests of her estate. "I've been acting as my own rent collector for years," she said, "and I'm getting tired of it. I want you to look after that and after any legal business arising therefrom, but mind you I'll pay you only the legal rate, no more, relative or no relative."