“You are probably under a misapprehension in reference to my young ward.  Nephew he is not, in a strict sense of the term.  He was adopted—­not legally, but practically—­by my brother, when he was only a year old, and his origin has been concealed from him.  My brother, being childless, has allowed him to suppose that he was his own son.  Undoubtedly he meant to provide for him in his will, but, as often happens, put off will-making till it was too late.  The estate, therefore, goes to me, and the boy is unprovided for.  This does not so much matter, since I am willing to educate him, and give him a fair start in life, if he acts in a manner to suit me.  I do not, however, feel called upon to pay an exorbitant price for his tuition, and, therefore, shall be obliged to forego placing him at Inglewood School.  Yours, etc.,

“Allan Roscoe.”

“When this letter is sent, I shall have taken the decisive step,” thought Mr. Roscoe.  “I must then adhere to my story, at whatever cost.  Now for the other.”

His reply to the letter of Socrates Smith, A. M., was briefer, but likely to be more satisfactory to the recipient.  It ran thus;

“Socrates Smith, A. M.

“Dear Sir:-Your letter is at hand, and I find it, on the whole, satisfactory.  The price you charge-three hundred dollars per annum—­is about right.  I hope you are a firm disciplinarian.  I do not want Hector too much indulged or pampered, though he may expect it, my poor brother having been indulgent to excess.

“Let me add, by the bye, that Hector is not my nephew, though I may inadvertently have mentioned him as such, and had no real claims upon my brother, though he has been brought up in that belief.  He was adopted, in an informal way, by my brother, when he was but, an infant.  Under the circumstances, I am willing to take care of him, and prepare him to earn his own living when his education is completed.

“You may expect to see me early next week.  I will bring the boy with me, and enter him at once as a pupil in your school.

“Yours, etc., Allan Roscoe.”

“There, that clinches it!” said Mr. Roscoe, in a tone of satisfaction.  “Now for an interview with the boy.”

CHAPTER II.

Resenting an insult.

A stone’s throw from the mansion was a neat and spacious carriage house.  The late master of Castle Roscoe had been fond of driving, and kept three horses and two carriages.  One of the latter was an old-fashioned coach; while there was, besides, a light buggy, which Hector was accustomed to consider his own.  It was he, generally, who used this, for his father preferred to take a driver, and generally took an airing, either alone or with Hector, in the more stately carriage, drawn by two horses.

Hector walked across the lawn and entered the carriage house, where Edward, the coachman, was washing the carriage.  As the former is to be our hero, we may pause to describe him.