“Then I may inform you that it was your stepson, Willis Ford, who stole my boy—­a noble revenge, truly, upon me for discharging him.”

“I don’t believe it,” said the housekeeper.  “I presume it is your office boy who makes this charge?” she added, pressing her thin lips together.

“There are others who are cognizant of it, Mrs. Estabrook.  Grant succeeded in foiling Mr. Ford in his attempt to recover Herbert, who had run away from his place of confinement,”

“You are prejudiced against my son, Mr. Reynolds,” said Mrs. Estabrook, her voice trembling with anger.

“Not more than against you, Mrs. Estabrook.  I have a serious charge to bring against you.”

“What do you mean, sir?” asked the housekeeper, nervously.

“Why did you suppress the letter which my boy wrote to me revealing his place of imprisonment?”

“I don’t know what you mean, sir,” she answered, half defiantly.

“I think you do.”

“Did Master Herbert write such a letter?” “Yes.”

“Then it must have miscarried.”

“On the contrary, the postman expressly declares that he delivered it at this house.  I charge you with concealing or suppressing it.”

“The charge is false.  You can’t prove it, sir.”

“I shall not attempt to do so; but I am thoroughly convinced of it.  After this act of treachery, I cannot permit you to spend another night in my house.  You will please pack at once, and arrange for a removal.”

“I am entitled to a month’s notice, Mr. Reynolds.”

“You shall have a month’s wages in lieu of it.  I would as soon have a serpent in my house.”

Mrs. Estabrook turned pale.  She had never expected it would come to this.  She thought no one would ever be able to trace the suppressed letter to her.  She was not likely again to obtain so comfortable and desirable a position.  Instead of attributing her ill fortune to her own malice and evil doing, she chose to attribute it to Grant.

“I am to thank you for this, Grant Thornton,” she said, in sudden passion.  “I was right in hating you as soon as I first saw you.  If ever I am able I will pay you up for this.”

“I don’t doubt it, Mrs. Estabrook,” said Grant, quietly, “but I don’t think you will have it in your power.”

She did not deign to answer, but hurried out of the room.  In half an hour she had left the house.

“Now I can breathe freely,” said the broker.  “That woman was so full of malice and spite that it made me uncomfortable to feel that she was in the house.”

“I am so glad that she has gone, papa,” said Herbert.

That evening, after Herbert had gone to bed, Mr. Reynolds invited Grant into his library.

“My boy,” he said, “I have settled accounts with Mrs. Estabrook; now I want to settle with you.”

“Not in the same way, I hope, sir,” said Grant.

“Yes, in the same way, according to your deserts.  You have done me a service, that which none can be greater.  You have been instrumental in restoring to me my only son.”