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The Errand Boy [25]

By Root 654 0
"Why, I know all about that myself. What I want to know about is, whether I am to marry the girl I adore."

"But you see, Wilbur, I don't adore anybody. I am not in love as you are."

"Of course that makes a difference," said Wilbur. "I'm glad I came, Phil. Ain't you?"

"Yes," answered Phil slowly.

"You see, it's such a satisfaction to know that all is coming right at last. I am to marry HER, you know, and although it isn't till I am twenty- four----"

"She will be nearly thirty by that time," said Phil slyly.

"She won't look it!" said Mr. Wilbur, wincing a little. "When I am thirty I shall be worth twenty thousand dollars."

"You can't save it very soon out of six dollars a week."

"That is true. I feel sure I shall be raised soon. Did the fortune-teller say anything about your getting rich?"

"No. I can't remember that she did. Oh, yes! she said I would make my fortune, but not in the way I expected."

"That is queer!" said Mr. Wilbur, interested. "What could she mean?"

"I suppose she meant that I would not save a competence out of five dollars a week."

"Maybe so."

"I have been thinking, Wilbur, you have an advantage over the young lady you are to marry. You know that you are to marry her, but she doesn't know who is to be her husband."

"That is true," said Wilbur seriously. "If I can find out her name, I will write her an anonymous letter, asking her to call on the veiled Lady."



CHAPTER XVI.

MRS. BRENT'S STRANGE TEMPTATION.

Now that Phil is fairly established in the city, circumstances require us to go back to the country town which he had once called home.

Mrs. Brent is sitting, engaged with her needle, in the same room where she had made the important revelation to Phil.

Jonas entered the house, stamping the snow from his boots.

"Is supper most ready, mother?" he asked.

"No, Jonas; it is only four o'clock," replied Mrs. Brent.

"I'm as hungry as a bear. I guess it's the skating."

"I wish you would go to the post-office before supper, Jonas. There might be a letter."

"Do you expect to hear from Phil?"

"He said nothing about writing," said Mrs. Brent indifferently. "He will do as he pleases about it."

"I did'nt know but he would be writing for money," chuckled Jonas.

"If he did, I would send him some," said Mrs. Brent.

"You would!" repeated Jonas, looking at his mother in surprise.

"Yes, I would send him a dollar or two, so that people needn't talk. It is always best to avoid gossip."

"Are you expecting a letter from anybody, mother?" asked Jonas, after a pause.

"I dreamed last night I should receive an important letter," said Mrs. Brent.

"With money in it?" asked Jonas eagerly.

"I don't know."

"If any such letter comes, will you give me some of the money?"

"If you bring me a letter containing money," said Mrs. Brent, "I will give you a dollar."

"Enough said!" exclaimed Jonas, who was fond of money; "I'm off to the post-office at once."

Mrs. Brent let the work fall into her lap and looked intently before her. A flush appeared on her pale face, and she showed signs of restlessness.

"It is strange," she said to herself, "how I have allowed myself to be affected by that dream. I am not superstitious, but I cannot get over the idea that a letter will reach me to-night, and that it will have an important bearing upon my life. I have a feeling, too, that it will relate to the boy Philip."

She rose from her seat and began to move about the room. It was a, relief to her in the restless state of her mind. She went to the window to look for Jonas, and her excitement rose as she saw him approaching. When he saw his mother looking from the window, he held aloft a letter.

"The letter has come," she said, her heart beating faster than its wont. "It is an important letter. How slow Jonas is."

And she was inclined to be vexed at the deliberation with which her son was advancing toward the house.

But he came at last.

"Well, mother, I've got a letter--a letter from Philadelphia," he said.
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