"Very well! don't let me interrupt." And Miss Beswick, slipping the
shawl from her head, sat down.
Her presence, stiff and prim and sarcastic, did not tend in the least to
relieve Mr. Ducklow from the natural embarrassment he felt in giving his
version of Reuben's loss. However, assisted occasionally by a judicious
remark thrown in by Mrs. Ducklow, he succeeded in telling a sufficiently
plausible and candid-seeming story.
"I see! I see!" said Reuben, who had listened with astonishment and pain
to the narrative. "You had kinder intentions towards me than I gave you
credit for. Forgive me, if I wronged you!" He pressed the hand of his
adopted father, and thanked him from a heart filled with gratitude and
trouble. "But don't feel so bad about it. You did what you thought best
I can only say, the fates are against me."
"Hem!" coughing, Miss Beswick stretched up her long neck and cleared her
throat "So them bonds you had bought for Reuben was in the house the
very night I called!"
"Yes, Miss Beswick," replied Mrs. Ducklow; "and that's what made it so
uncomfortable to us to have you talk the way you did.
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