“Of what are you accusing my boy?” asked Mrs. Pitkin, ready to contend for her favorite.  “So that boy has been telling lies about him, has he? and you believe scandalous stories about your own flesh and blood?”

“Not exactly that, Lavinia.”

“Well, your near relation, and that on the testimony of a boy you know nothing about.  When Lonny is so devoted to you, too!”

“I never noticed any special devotion,” said Mr. Carter, amused.  “You are mistaken, however, about Philip trying to injure him.  I simply asked Philip whether he had received such a letter, and he said no.”

“I dare say he did receive it,” said Mrs. Pitkin spitefully.

“We won’t argue the matter now,” said the old gentleman.  “I will only say that you and Alonzo, and Mr. Pitkin also, have gone the wrong way to work to secure my favor.  You have done what you could to injure two persons, one your own cousin, because you were jealous.”

“You judge me very hardly, uncle,” said Mrs. Pitkin, seeing that she must adopt a different course.  “I have no bad feeling against Rebecca, and as to the boy, I will ask my husband to take him back into the store.  I am sure he will do it, because you wish it.”

“I don’t wish it,” answered Mr. Carter, rather unexpectedly.

“Oh, well,” answered Mrs. Pitkin, looking relieved, “that is as you say.”

“I have other views for Philip,” said Mr. Carter.  “He is with me as my private secretary.”

“Is he living with you?” asked his niece, in alarm.

“Yes.”

“There was no need of taking a stranger, Uncle Oliver.  We should be glad to have Alonzo act as your secretary, though of course we should want him to stay at home.”

“I shall not deprive you of Alonzo,” said Mr. Carter, with a tinge of sarcasm in his tone.  “Philip will suit me better.”

Mr. Carter turned and resumed his packing.

“Are you quite determined to leave us?” asked Mrs. Pitkin, in a subdued tone.

“Yes; it will be better.”

“But you will come back—­say after a few weeks?”

“No, I think not,” he answered dryly.

“And shall we not see you at all?”

“Oh, I shall call from time to time, and besides, you will know where I am, and can call whenever you desire.”

“People will talk about your leaving us,” complained Mrs. Pitkin.

“Let them talk.  I never agreed to have my movements controlled by people’s gossip.  And now, Lavinia, I shall have to neglect you and resume my packing.  To-morrow I shall bring Philip here to help me.”

“Would you like to have Alonzo help you, Uncle Oliver?”

This offer, much to Alonzo’s relief, was declined.  He feared that he should be examined more closely by the old gentleman about the missing money, which at that very moment he had in his pocket.

Mrs. Pitkin went down stairs feeling angry and baffled.  All that she had done to retain her ascendency over Uncle Oliver had failed, and Mrs. Forbush and Philip seemed to have superseded herself and Alonzo in his regard.  She conferred with Mr. Pitkin on his return from the store, but the more they considered the matter the worse it looked for their prospects.