“I hope you were repaid for your trouble and privations, sir.”

“Yes, I was handsomely repaid.  I may soon be as rich as your local magnate, Prince Duncan, but I have had to work harder for it, probably.”

“So you know the squire’s name?” said Mrs. Larkin, in some surprise.

“I must have heard it somewhere,” remarked Roland Reed.  “Have I got it right?”

“Yes; it’s a peculiar name.”

When they reached the cottage Mrs. Larkin set about getting supper.  In honor of her guest she sent out for some steak, and baked some biscuit, so that the table presented an inviting appearance when the three sat down to it.  After supper was over, Roland Reed said:  “I told you that I wished to speak to you on business, Mrs. Larkin.  It is briefly this:  Are you willing to receive a boarder?”

“I am afraid, sir, that you would hardly be satisfied with our humble accommodations.”

“Oh, I am not speaking of myself, but of a child.  I am a widower, Mrs. Larkin, and have a little daughter eight years of age.  She is now boarding in New York, but I do not like the people with whom I have placed her.  She is rather delicate, also, and I think a country town would suit her better than the city air.  I should like to have her under just such nice motherly care as I am sure you would give her.”

“I shall be very glad to receive her,” said Mrs. Larkin, with a flush of pleasure.

“And for the terms?”

“I would rather you would name them, sir.”

“Then I will say ten dollars a week.”

“Ten dollars!” exclaimed the widow, in amazement.  “It won’t be worth half that.”

“I don’t pay for board merely, but for care and attendance as well.  She may be sick, and that would increase your trouble.”

“She would in that case receive as much care as if she were my own daughter; but I don’t ask such an exorbitant rate of board.”

“It isn’t exorbitant if I choose to pay it, Mrs. Larkin,” said Mr. Reed, smiling.  “I am entirely able to pay that price, and prefer to do so.”

“It will make me feel quite rich, sir,” said the widow, gratefully.  “I shall find it useful, especially as Luke has lost his situation.”

“Luke may find another position.”

“When do you wish your daughter to come?” asked Mrs. Larkin.

“Luke will accompany me to the city to-morrow, and bring her back with him.  By the way, I will pay you four weeks in advance.”

He drew four ten-dollar bills from his pocket and put them into the widow’s hand.

“I am almost afraid this is a dream,” said Mrs. Larkin.  “You have made me very happy.”

“You mustn’t become purse-proud, mother,” said Luke, “because you have become suddenly rich.”

“Can you be ready to take the first train to New York with me in the morning, Luke?” asked Roland Reed.

“Yes, sir; it starts at half-past seven.”