“How cruel you are, Lavinia!” said Mrs. Forbush sadly.

“My name is Mrs. Pitkin!” said that lady frigidly.

“You have not forgotten that we are cousins, surely?”

“I do not care to remember it, Mrs. Forbush.  Good-day.”

There was no alternative but for Mrs. Forbush to say “good-day” also, and to descend the steps.

Philip joined her in the street.

“Are you really the cousin of Mrs. Pitkin?” he asked.

“Yes,” answered Mrs. Forbush.  “I bear the same relationship to Mr. Carter that she does.  We were much together as girls, and were both educated at the same expensive schools.  I offended my relatives by marrying Mr. Forbush, whose fault was that he was poor, and chiefly, I think, through the efforts of Lavinia Pitkin I was cast out by the family.  But where did you meet Uncle Oliver?”

Philip explained the circumstances already known to the reader.

“Mr. Carter seems to me to be a kind-hearted man,” he said.  “I don’t believe he would have cast you off if he had not been influenced by other parties.”

“So I think,” said Mrs. Forbush.  “I will tell you,” she continued, after a pause, “what drew me here this afternoon.  I am struggling hard to keep my head above water, Mr. Brent, but I find it hard to meet my expenses.  I cannot meet my rent due to-morrow within fifteen dollars, and I dared to hope that if I could meet Uncle Oliver face to face and explain matters to him, he would let me have the money.”

“I am sure he would,” said Phil warmly.

“But he is in Florida, and will probably remain there for a month or two at least,” said Mrs. Forbush, sighing.  “But even if he were in the city I suppose Lavinia would do all in her power to keep us apart.”

“I have no doubt she would, Mrs. Forbush.  Though she is your cousin, I dislike her very much.”

“I suppose the boy with whom you were talking was her son Alonzo?”

“Yes; he is about the most disagreeable boy I ever met.  Both he and his mother seem very much opposed to my having an interview with your uncle.”

“Lavinia was always of a jealous and suspicious disposition,” said Mrs. Forbush.  “I have not seen Alonzo since he was a baby.  He is two years older than my Julia.  He was born before I estranged my relatives by marrying a poor man.”

“What are you going to do, Mrs. Forbush, about the rent?” asked Phil, in a tone of sympathy.

“I don’t know.  I shall try to get the landlord to wait, but I don’t know how he will feel about it.”

“I wish I had plenty of money.  I would gladly lend you all you need.”

“I am sure you would, Philip,” said Mrs. Forbush.  “The offer does me good, though it is not accompanied by the ability to do what your good heart dictates.  I feel that I am not without friends.”

“I am a very poor one,” said Phil.  “The fact is, I am in trouble myself.  My income is only five dollars a week, and my expenses are beyond that.  I don’t know how I am going to keep up.”