“You seem to me very unreasonable in expecting me not only to give you the house rent-free, but also to give you a salary.  I would like to know what you do to merit a salary.  You merely take care of the house.  As for that, there are plenty who would be glad to take charge of so good a house, and pay me a fair rent.  Indeed, I am thinking that it will be best for me to make some such arrangement, especially as you do not seem satisfied with your sinecure position.  You represent me as rolling in wealth.  Jonas and I are living very comfortably, and we have nothing to complain of, but that is no reason for my squandering the small fortune left me by my husband.  I advise you to be a little more reasonable in your demands, or I shall request you to leave my house.”

“Selfish as ever,” muttered Mr. Raynor, after reading this letter over again.  “Cousin Jane never was willing that any one else should prosper.  But she has made a mistake in thinking she can treat me meanly.  I am in A position to turn the tables upon her!  This paper—­if she dreamed I had found it, she would yield to all my demands.”

He laid his hand upon a paper, folded lengthwise, and presenting the appearance of a legal document.

He opened the paper and read aloud: 

“To the boy generally known as Philip Brent and supposed, though incorrectly, to be my son, I bequeath the sum of five thousand dollars, and direct the same to be paid over to any one whom he may select as guardian, to hold in trust for him until he attains the age of twenty-one.”

“This will Mrs. Brent carefully concealed,” continued Mr. Raynor, “in order to save the money for herself and Jonas.  I wonder she was not prudent enough to burn it, or, at any rate, to take it with her when she left Planktown.  It is a damaging secret, but I hold it, and I mean to use it, too.  Let me see, what is it best to do?”

Mr. Raynor spent some time in quiet thought.  It seemed to him that it might be well to hint his discovery in a letter to Mrs. Brent, and to make it the basis of a demand for a generous sum of hush-money—­one thousand dollars, at least.  He might have decided to do this but for an incident which suggested another course.

The door-bell rang, and when he opened the door with some surprise, for callers were few, he saw standing before him a tall, handsome boy, whom he did not recognize.

“Do you wish to see me?” he asked.  “What is your name?”

“My name is Philip Brent.”

“What!” exclaimed Mr. Raynor, in visible excitement, “are you the son of the late Mr. Brent?”

“I was always regarded as such,” answered Philip.

“Come in, then.  I am glad to see you,” said Mr. Raynor; and Phil entered the house, surprised at a reception much more cordial than he had expected.

In that brief moment Mr. Raynor had decided to reveal the secret to Phil, and trust to his gratitude for a suitable acknowledgment.  In this way he would revenge himself upon Mrs. Brent, who had treated him so meanly.