章节正文
entered the carriage.
"Drive to No.-- Madison Avenue," said Mr.
Carter to the driver.
"Uncle Oliver, you have given the wrong direction."
"No, Rebecca, I know what I am about."
"Do you live on Madison Avenue?" asked Mrs.
Forbush.
"I am going to and so are you. You must know
that I own a furnished house on Madison Avenue.
The late occupants sailed for Europe last week, and
I was looking out for a tenant when I found you.
You will move there to-morrow, and act as house
keeper, taking care of Philip and myself. I hope
Julia and you will like it as well as your present
home."
"How can I thank you for all your kindness,
Uncle Oliver?" said Mrs. Forbush, with joyful tears.
"It will be living once more. It will be such a rest
from the hard struggle I have had of late years."
"You can repay me by humoring all my whims,"
said Uncle Oliver, smiling. "You will find me very
tyrannical. The least infraction of my rules will
lead me to send you all packing."
"Am I to be treated in the same way, Mr. Carter?"
asked Philip.
"Exactly."
"Then, if you discharge me, I will fly for refuge
to Mr. Pitkin."
"That will be `out of the frying-pan into the fire'
with a vengeance."
By this time they had reached the house. It was
an elegant brown-stone front, and proved, on
entrance, to be furnished in the most complete and
elegant manner. Mr. Carter selected the second
floor for his own use; a good-sized room on the
third was assigned to Philip, and Mrs. Forbush was
told to select such rooms for Julia and herself as she
desired.
"This is much finer than Mrs. Pitkin's house,"
said Philip.
"Yes, it is."
"She will be jealous when she hears of it."
"No doubt. That is precisely what I desire. It
will be a fittingpunishment for her treatment of
her own cousin."
It was arranged that on the morrow Mrs. Forbush
and Julia should close their small house, leaving
directions to sell the humble furniture at auction,
while Mr. Carter and Philip would come up from
the Astor House.
"What will the Pitkins say when they hear of
it?" thought Philip. "I am afraid they will feel
bad."
CHAPTER XXVII.
AN UNPLEASANT SURPRISE.
While these important changes were occurring
in the lives of Philip Brent and the poor
cousin, Mrs. Pitkin remained in blissful ignorance of
what was going on. Alonzo had told her of his
encounter with Phil on Broadway and the intelligence
our hero gave him of his securing a place.
"You may rest assured the boy was lying, Lonny,"
said Mrs. Pitkin. "Boys don't get places so easily,
especially when they can't give a recommendation
from their last employer.
"That's just what I thought, ma," said Alonzo.
"Still Phil looked in good spirits, and he was as
saucy as ever."
"I can believe the last very well, Lonny. The
boy is naturally impertinent. They were probably
put on to deceive you."
"But how does he get money to pay his way?"
said Alonzo puzzled.
"As to that, he is probably selling papers or
blacking boots in the lower part of the city. He
could make enough to live on, and of course he
wouldn't let you know what he was doing."
"I hope you're right, ma. I'd give ever so much
to catch him blacking boots in City Hall Park, or
anywhere else; I'd give him a job. Wouldn't he
feel mortified to be caught?"
"No doubt he would."
"I've a great mind to go down town to-morrow
and look about for him."
"Very well, Lonny. You may to if you want
to."
Alonzo did go; but he looked in vain for Phil.
The latter was employed in doing some writing and
attending to some accounts for Mr. Carter, who had
by this time found that his protege was thoroughly
well qualified for such work.
So nearly a week passed. It so chanced that
though Uncle Oliver had now been in New York a
considerable time, not one of the Pitkins had met
him or had reason to suspect that he was nearer
than Florida.
One day, however, among Mrs. Pitkin's callers
was Mrs. Vangriff, a fashionable acquaintance.
"Mr. Oliver Carter is your uncle, I believe?" said
the visitor.
"Yes."
"I met him on Broadway the other day. He was
looking very well."
"It must have been a fortnight since, then. Uncle
Oliver is in Florida."
"In Florida!" repeated Mrs. Vangriff, in surprise.
"When did he go?"
"When was it, Lonny?" asked Mrs. Pitkin,
appealing to her son.
"It will be two weeks next Thursday."
"There must be some mistake," said the visitor.
"I saw Mr. Carter on Broadway, near Twentieth
Street, day before yesterday."
"Quite a mistake, I assure you, Mrs. Vangriff,"
said Mrs. Pitkin, smiling. "It was some other person.
You were deceived by a fancied resemblance."
"It is you who are wrong, Mrs. Pitkin," said
Mrs. Vangriff, positively. "I am somewhat acquainted
with Mr. Carter, and I stopped to speak
with him."
"Are you sure of this?" asked Mrs. Pitkin, looking
startled.
"Certainly, I am sure of it."
"Did you call him by name?"
"Certainly; and even inquired after you. He
answered that he believed you were well. I thought
he was living with you?"
"So he was," answered Mrs. Pitkin coolly as
possible, considering the startling nature of the
information she had received. "Probably Uncle Oliver
returned sooner than he anticipated, and was merely
passing through the city. He has important business
interests at the West."
"I don't think he was merely passing through the
city, for a friend of mine saw him at the Fifth
Avenue Theater last evening."
Mrs. Pitkin actually turned as pale as her sallow
complexion would admit.
"I am rather surprised to hear this, I admit," she
said. "Was he alone, do you know?"
"No; he had a lady and a boy with him."
"Is it possible that Uncle Oliver has been married
to some designing widow?" Mrs. Pitkin asked
herself. "It is positively terrible!"
She did not dare to betray her agitation before
Mrs. Vangriff, and sat on thorns till that lady saw
fit to take leave. Then she turned to Alonzo and
said, in a hollow voice:
"Lonny, you heard what that woman said?"
"You bet!"
"Do you think Uncle Oliver has gone and got
married again?" she asked, in a hollow voice.
"I shouldn't wonder a mite, ma," was the not
consolitary reply.
"If so, what will become of us? My poor boy, I
looked upon you and myself as likely to receive all
of Uncle Oliver's handsome property. As it is----"
and she almost broke down.
"Perhaps he's only engaged?" suggested Alonzo.
"To be sure!" said his mother, brightening up.
"If so, the affair may yet be broken off. Oh, Lonny,
I never thought your uncle was so artful. His trip
to Florida was only a trick to put us off the scent."
"What are you going to do about it, ma?"
"I must find out as soon as possible where Uncle
Oliver is staying. Then I will see him, and try to
cure him of his infatuation. He is evidently trying
to keep us in the dark, or he would have come back
to his rooms."
"How are you going to find out, ma?"
"I don't know. That's what puzzles me."
"S'pose you hire a detective?"
"I wouldn't dare to. Your uncle would be angry
when he found it out."
"Do you s'pose Phil knows anything about it?"
suggested Alonzo.
"I don't know; it is hardly probable. Do you
know where he lives?"
"With the woman who called here and said she
was your cousin."
"Yes, I remember, Lonny. I will order the
carriage, and we will go there. But you must be very
careful not to let them know Uncle Oliver is in New
York. I don't wish them to meet him."
"All right! I ain't a fool. You can trust me, ma."
Soon the Pitkin carriage was as the door, and Mrs.
Pitkin and Alonzo entered it, and were driven to
the shabby house so recently occupied by Mrs. Forbush.
"It's a low place!" said Alonzo contemptuously,
as he regarded disdainfully the small dwelling.
"Yes; but I suppose it is as good as she can afford
to live in. Lonny, will you get out and ring
the bell? Ask if Mrs. Forbush lives there."
Alonzo did as requested.
The door was opened by a small girl, whose
shabby dress was in harmony with the place.
"Rebecca's child, I suppose!" said Mrs. Pitkin,
who was looking out of the carriage window.
"Does Mrs. Forbush live here?" asked Alonzo.
"No, she doesn't. Mrs. Kavanagh lives here."
"Didn't Mrs. Forbush used to live here?" further
"Drive to No.-- Madison Avenue," said Mr.
Carter to the driver.
"Uncle Oliver, you have given the wrong direction."
"No, Rebecca, I know what I am about."
"Do you live on Madison Avenue?" asked Mrs.
Forbush.
"I am going to and so are you. You must know
that I own a furnished house on Madison Avenue.
The late occupants sailed for Europe last week, and
I was looking out for a tenant when I found you.
You will move there to-morrow, and act as house
keeper, taking care of Philip and myself. I hope
Julia and you will like it as well as your present
home."
"How can I thank you for all your kindness,
Uncle Oliver?" said Mrs. Forbush, with joyful tears.
"It will be living once more. It will be such a rest
from the hard struggle I have had of late years."
"You can repay me by humoring all my whims,"
said Uncle Oliver, smiling. "You will find me very
tyrannical. The least infraction of my rules will
lead me to send you all packing."
"Am I to be treated in the same way, Mr. Carter?"
asked Philip.
"Exactly."
"Then, if you discharge me, I will fly for refuge
to Mr. Pitkin."
"That will be `out of the frying-pan into the fire'
with a vengeance."
By this time they had reached the house. It was
an elegant brown-stone front, and proved, on
entrance, to be furnished in the most complete and
elegant manner. Mr. Carter selected the second
floor for his own use; a good-sized room on the
third was assigned to Philip, and Mrs. Forbush was
told to select such rooms for Julia and herself as she
desired.
"This is much finer than Mrs. Pitkin's house,"
said Philip.
"Yes, it is."
"She will be jealous when she hears of it."
"No doubt. That is precisely what I desire. It
will be a fittingpunishment for her treatment of
her own cousin."
It was arranged that on the morrow Mrs. Forbush
and Julia should close their small house, leaving
directions to sell the humble furniture at auction,
while Mr. Carter and Philip would come up from
the Astor House.
"What will the Pitkins say when they hear of
it?" thought Philip. "I am afraid they will feel
bad."
CHAPTER XXVII.
AN UNPLEASANT SURPRISE.
While these important changes were occurring
in the lives of Philip Brent and the poor
cousin, Mrs. Pitkin remained in blissful ignorance of
what was going on. Alonzo had told her of his
encounter with Phil on Broadway and the intelligence
our hero gave him of his securing a place.
"You may rest assured the boy was lying, Lonny,"
said Mrs. Pitkin. "Boys don't get places so easily,
especially when they can't give a recommendation
from their last employer.
"That's just what I thought, ma," said Alonzo.
"Still Phil looked in good spirits, and he was as
saucy as ever."
"I can believe the last very well, Lonny. The
boy is naturally impertinent. They were probably
put on to deceive you."
"But how does he get money to pay his way?"
said Alonzo puzzled.
"As to that, he is probably selling papers or
blacking boots in the lower part of the city. He
could make enough to live on, and of course he
wouldn't let you know what he was doing."
"I hope you're right, ma. I'd give ever so much
to catch him blacking boots in City Hall Park, or
anywhere else; I'd give him a job. Wouldn't he
feel mortified to be caught?"
"No doubt he would."
"I've a great mind to go down town to-morrow
and look about for him."
"Very well, Lonny. You may to if you want
to."
Alonzo did go; but he looked in vain for Phil.
The latter was employed in doing some writing and
attending to some accounts for Mr. Carter, who had
by this time found that his protege was thoroughly
well qualified for such work.
So nearly a week passed. It so chanced that
though Uncle Oliver had now been in New York a
considerable time, not one of the Pitkins had met
him or had reason to suspect that he was nearer
than Florida.
One day, however, among Mrs. Pitkin's callers
was Mrs. Vangriff, a fashionable acquaintance.
"Mr. Oliver Carter is your uncle, I believe?" said
the visitor.
"Yes."
"I met him on Broadway the other day. He was
looking very well."
"It must have been a fortnight since, then. Uncle
Oliver is in Florida."
"In Florida!" repeated Mrs. Vangriff, in surprise.
"When did he go?"
"When was it, Lonny?" asked Mrs. Pitkin,
appealing to her son.
"It will be two weeks next Thursday."
"There must be some mistake," said the visitor.
"I saw Mr. Carter on Broadway, near Twentieth
Street, day before yesterday."
"Quite a mistake, I assure you, Mrs. Vangriff,"
said Mrs. Pitkin, smiling. "It was some other person.
You were deceived by a fancied resemblance."
"It is you who are wrong, Mrs. Pitkin," said
Mrs. Vangriff, positively. "I am somewhat acquainted
with Mr. Carter, and I stopped to speak
with him."
"Are you sure of this?" asked Mrs. Pitkin, looking
startled.
"Certainly, I am sure of it."
"Did you call him by name?"
"Certainly; and even inquired after you. He
answered that he believed you were well. I thought
he was living with you?"
"So he was," answered Mrs. Pitkin coolly as
possible, considering the startling nature of the
information she had received. "Probably Uncle Oliver
returned sooner than he anticipated, and was merely
passing through the city. He has important business
interests at the West."
"I don't think he was merely passing through the
city, for a friend of mine saw him at the Fifth
Avenue Theater last evening."
Mrs. Pitkin actually turned as pale as her sallow
complexion would admit.
"I am rather surprised to hear this, I admit," she
said. "Was he alone, do you know?"
"No; he had a lady and a boy with him."
"Is it possible that Uncle Oliver has been married
to some designing widow?" Mrs. Pitkin asked
herself. "It is positively terrible!"
She did not dare to betray her agitation before
Mrs. Vangriff, and sat on thorns till that lady saw
fit to take leave. Then she turned to Alonzo and
said, in a hollow voice:
"Lonny, you heard what that woman said?"
"You bet!"
"Do you think Uncle Oliver has gone and got
married again?" she asked, in a hollow voice.
"I shouldn't wonder a mite, ma," was the not
consolitary reply.
"If so, what will become of us? My poor boy, I
looked upon you and myself as likely to receive all
of Uncle Oliver's handsome property. As it is----"
and she almost broke down.
"Perhaps he's only engaged?" suggested Alonzo.
"To be sure!" said his mother, brightening up.
"If so, the affair may yet be broken off. Oh, Lonny,
I never thought your uncle was so artful. His trip
to Florida was only a trick to put us off the scent."
"What are you going to do about it, ma?"
"I must find out as soon as possible where Uncle
Oliver is staying. Then I will see him, and try to
cure him of his infatuation. He is evidently trying
to keep us in the dark, or he would have come back
to his rooms."
"How are you going to find out, ma?"
"I don't know. That's what puzzles me."
"S'pose you hire a detective?"
"I wouldn't dare to. Your uncle would be angry
when he found it out."
"Do you s'pose Phil knows anything about it?"
suggested Alonzo.
"I don't know; it is hardly probable. Do you
know where he lives?"
"With the woman who called here and said she
was your cousin."
"Yes, I remember, Lonny. I will order the
carriage, and we will go there. But you must be very
careful not to let them know Uncle Oliver is in New
York. I don't wish them to meet him."
"All right! I ain't a fool. You can trust me, ma."
Soon the Pitkin carriage was as the door, and Mrs.
Pitkin and Alonzo entered it, and were driven to
the shabby house so recently occupied by Mrs. Forbush.
"It's a low place!" said Alonzo contemptuously,
as he regarded disdainfully the small dwelling.
"Yes; but I suppose it is as good as she can afford
to live in. Lonny, will you get out and ring
the bell? Ask if Mrs. Forbush lives there."
Alonzo did as requested.
The door was opened by a small girl, whose
shabby dress was in harmony with the place.
"Rebecca's child, I suppose!" said Mrs. Pitkin,
who was looking out of the carriage window.
"Does Mrs. Forbush live here?" asked Alonzo.
"No, she doesn't. Mrs. Kavanagh lives here."
"Didn't Mrs. Forbush used to live here?" further
- discharge [dis´tʃɑ:dʒ]
vt.&n.卸货；释放；解雇 (初中英语单词) - jealous [´dʒeləs] a.妒忌的 (初中英语单词)
- punishment [´pʌniʃmənt] n.罚，刑罚 (初中英语单词)
- treatment [´tri:tmənt] n.待遇；对待；治疗 (初中英语单词)
- humble [´hʌmbəl] a.谦卑的 vt.贬抑 (初中英语单词)
- ignorance [´ignərəns] n.无知，愚昧 (初中英语单词)
- deceive [di´si:v] vt.欺骗，欺诈 (初中英语单词)
- writing [´raitiŋ] n.书写；写作；书法 (初中英语单词)
- suspect [´sʌspekt, sə´spekt] v.怀疑；觉得 n.嫌疑犯 (初中英语单词)
- actually [´æktʃuəli] ad.事实上；实际上 (初中英语单词)
- betray [bi´trei] vt.背叛；辜负；暴露 (初中英语单词)
- florida [´flɔridə] n.佛罗里达 (初中英语单词)
- evidently [´evidəntli] ad.明显地 (初中英语单词)
- probable [´prɔbəbəl] a.大概的n.很可能的事 (初中英语单词)
- carriage [´kæridʒ] n.马车；客车；货运 (初中英语单词)
- driven [´driv(ə)n] drive 的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- harmony [´hɑ:məni] n.调合，协调，和谐 (初中英语单词)
- tenant [´tenənt] n.租户，佃户 (高中英语单词)
- joyful [´dʒɔifəl] a.高兴的，充满快乐的 (高中英语单词)
- elegant [´eligənt] a.文雅的；优美的 (高中英语单词)
- precisely [pri´saisli] ad.精确地；刻板地 (高中英语单词)
- unpleasant [ʌn´plezənt] a.不愉快的；不合意的 (高中英语单词)
- broadway [´brɔ:dwei] n.&a.百老汇大街(的) (高中英语单词)
- fashionable [´fæʃənəbəl] a.流行的，时髦的 (高中英语单词)
- fortnight [´fɔ:tnait] n.两星期 (高中英语单词)
- repeated [ri´pi:tid] a.反复的；重复的 (高中英语单词)
- positively [´pɔzətivli] ad.确实；断然；绝对 (高中英语单词)
- startling [´stɑ:tliŋ] a.惊人的 (高中英语单词)
- agitation [,ædʒi´teiʃən] n.鼓动；摇动；焦虑 (高中英语单词)
- shabby [´ʃæbi] a.(衣服)破旧的 (高中英语单词)
- morrow [´mɔrəu] n.翌日 (英语四级单词)
- coolly [´ku:li] ad.冷(静地)，沉着地 (英语四级单词)
- considering [kən´sidəriŋ] prep.就...而论 (英语四级单词)
- taking [´teikiŋ] a.迷人的 n.捕获物 (英语六级单词)
- fitting [´fitiŋ] a.适当的 n.试衣 (英语六级单词)
- assured [ə´ʃuəd] a.确实的 n.被保险人 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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