“He tried it, and got a good thrashing.  You can imagine what followed.  He ran, crying to his mother, and his version of the story was believed.  I was confined to my room for a week, and forced to live on bread and water.”

“I shouldn’t think your father was a man to inflict such a punishment.”

“It wasn’t he—­it was my stepmother.  She insisted upon it, and he yielded.  I heard afterwards from one of the servants that he wanted me released at the end of twenty-four hours, but she would not consent.”

“How long ago was this?”

“It happened when I was twelve.”

“Was it ever repeated?”

“Yes, a month later; but the punishment lasted only for two days.”

“And you submitted to it?”

“I had to, but as soon as I was released I gave Peter such a flogging, with the promise to repeat it, if I was ever punished in that manner again, that the boy himself was panic-stricken, and objected to my being imprisoned again.”

“He must be a charming fellow!”

“You would think so if you should see him.  He has small, insignificant features, a turn-up nose, and an ugly scowl that appears whenever he is out of humor.”

“And yet your father likes him?”

“I don’t think he does, though Peter, by his mother’s orders, pays all sorts of small attentions—­bringing him his slippers, running on errands, and so on, not because he likes it, but because he wants to supplant me, as he has succeeded in doing.”

“You have finally broken away, then?”

“Yes; I couldn’t stand it any longer.  Home had become intolerable.”

“Pardon the question, but hasn’t your father got considerable property?”

“I have every reason to think so.”

“Won’t your leaving home give your step-mother and Peter the inside track, and lead, perhaps, to your disinheritance?”

“I suppose so,” answered Carl, wearily; “but no matter what happens, I can’t bear to stay at home any longer.”

“You’re badly fixed—­that’s a fact!” said Gilbert, in a tone of sympathy.  “What are your plans?”

“I don’t know.  I haven’t had time to think.”

CHAPTER II.

A friend worth having.

Gilbert wrinkled up his forehead and set about trying to form some plans for Carl.

“It will be hard for you to support yourself,” he said, after a pause; “that is, without help.”

“There is no one to help me.  I expect no help.”

“I thought your father might be induced to give you an allowance, so that with what you can earn, you may get along comfortably.”

“I think father would be willing to do this, but my stepmother would prevent him.”

“Then she has a great deal of influence over him?”

“Yes, she can twist him round her little finger.”

“I can’t understand it.”