"That's like her cold selfishness. I understand her motives very well. I had no idea that Mrs. Forbush was in the city. Is she--poor?"
"Yes, sir; she is having a hard struggle to maintain herself and her daughter."
"And you board at her house?"
"Yes, sir."
"How strangely things come about! She is as nearly related to me as Lavinia--Mrs. Pitkin."
"She told me so."
"She married against the wishes of her family, but I can see now that we were all unreasonably prejudiced against her. Lavinia, however, trumped up stories against her husband, which I am now led to believe were quite destitute of foundation, and did all she could to keep alive the feud. I feel now that I was very foolish to lend myself to her selfish ends. Of course her object was to get my whole fortune for herself and her boy."
Phil had no doubt of this, but he did not like to say so, for it would seem that he, too, was influenced by selfish motives.
"Then you are not so much prejudiced against Mrs. Forbush as she was told?" he allowed himself to say.
"No, no!" said Mr. Carter earnestly. "Poor Rebecca! She has a much better nature and disposition than Mrs. Pitkin. And you say she is poor?"
"She had great difficulty in paying her last month's rent," said Philip.
"Where does she live?"
Phil told him.
"What sort of a house is it?"
"It isn't a brown-stone front," answered Phil, smiling. "It is a poor, cheap house; but it is as good as she can afford to hire."
"And you like her?"
"Very much, Mr. Carter. She has been very kind to me, and though she finds it so hard to get along, she has told me she will keep me as long as she has a roof over her head, though just now I cannot pay my board, because my income is gone."
"It will come back again, Philip," said the old gentleman.
Phil understood by this that he would be restored to his place in Mr. Pitkin's establishment. This did not yield him unalloyed satisfaction, for he was sure that it would be made unpleasant for him by Mr. Pitkin. Still he would accept it, and meet disagreeable things as well as he could.
By this time they had reached the Astor House.
Phil jumped out first, and assisted Mr. Carter to descend.
He took Mr. Carter's hand-bag, and followed him into the hotel.
Mr. Carter entered his name in the register.
"What is your name?" he asked--"Philip Brent?"
"Yes, sir."
"I will enter your name, too."
"Am I to stay here?" asked Phil, in surprise.
"Yes; I shall need a confidential clerk, and for the present you will fill that position. I will take two adjoining rooms--one for you."
Phil listened in surprise.
"Thank you, sir," he said.
Mr. Carter gave orders to have his trunk sent for from the steamer, and took possession of the room.
Philip's room was smaller, but considerably more luxurious than the one he occupied at the house of Mrs. Forbush.
"Have you any money, Philip?" asked the old gentleman.
"I have twenty-five cents," answered Philip.
"That isn't a very large sum," said Mr. Carter, smiling. "Here, let me replenish your pocketbook."
He drew four five-dollar bills from his wallet and handed them to Phil.
"How can I thank you, sir?" asked Phil gratefully.
"Wait till you have more to thank me for. Let me tell you this, that in trying to harm you, Mr. and Mrs. Pitkin have done you a great service."
"I should like to see Mrs. Forbush this evening, if you can spare me, to let her know that she needn't be anxious about me."
"By all means. You can go."
"Am I at liberty to mention that I have seen you, sir?"
"Yes. Tell her that I will call to-morrow. And you may take her this."
Mr. Carter drew a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet and passed it to Phil.
"Get it changed at the office as you go out," he said. "Come back as soon as you can."
With a joyful heart Phil jumped on a Fourth Avenue car in front of the hotel, and started on his way up town.
