"Go back to your room," said she, sharply; "and don't stay here accusing me and Mr. Mudge of unchristian conduct. You're the most troublesome pauper we have on our hands; and I do wish the town would provide for you somewhere else."

"So do I," sighed the old lady to herself, though she did not think fit to give audible voice to her thoughts.

It was at this moment that Paul halted his chaise at the gate, and lightly jumping out, fastened his horse to a tree, and walked up to the front door.

"Who can it be?" thought Mrs. Mudge, hastily adjusting her cap, and taking off her ap.r.o.n.

"I don't know, I'm sure," said Mr. Mudge, unsuspiciously.

"I declare! I look like a fright."

"No worse than usual," said her husband, gallantly.

By this time Paul had knocked.

"Good-morning, sir," said Mrs. Mudge, deferentially, her respect excited by Paul's dress and handsome chaise.

"Is Mrs. Lee in?" inquired Paul, not caring to declare himself, yet, to his old enemy.

"Yes," said Mrs. Mudge, obsequiously, though not overpleased to find that this was Aunt Lucy's visitor; "would you like to see her?"

"If you please."

"What can he want of the old lady?" thought Mrs. Mudge, as she went to summon her.

"A visitor for me?" asked Aunt Lucy, looking at Mrs. Mudge somewhat suspiciously.

"Yes; and as he's come in a carriage, you'd better slick up a little; put on a clean cap or something."

Aunt Lucy was soon ready.

She looked wonderingly at Paul, not recognizing him.

"You are not very good at remembering your old friends," said Paul, with a smile.

"What!" exclaimed Aunt Lucy, her face lighting up with joy; "are you little Paul?"

"Not very little, now," said our hero, laughing; "but I'm the same Paul you used to know."

Mrs. Mudge, who through the half open door had heard this revelation, was overwhelmed with astonishment and confusion. She hurried to her husband.

"Wonders will never cease!" she exclaimed, holding up both hands. "If that doesn't turn out to be Paul Prescott. Of course he's up in the world, or he wouldn't dress so well, and ride in such a handsome carriage."

"You don't say so!" returned Mr. Mudge, who looked as if he had heard of a heavy misfortune.

"Yes, I do; I heard him say so with his own lips. It's a pity you showed that paragraph to Aunt Lucy, this morning."

"That you showed, you mean," retorted her husband.

"No, I don't. You know it was you that did it."

"Hush; they'll hear."

Meanwhile the two friends were conversing together happily.

"I'm so glad you're doing so well, Paul," said Aunt Lucy. "It was a lucky day when you left the Poorhouse behind you."

"Yes, Aunt Lucy, and to-day is a lucky day for you. There's room for two in that chaise, and I'm going to take you away with me."

"I should enjoy a ride, Paul. It's a long time since I have taken one."

"You don't understand me. You're going away not to return."

The old lady smiled sadly.

"No, no, Paul. I can't consent to become a burden upon your generosity.

You can't afford it, and it will not be right."

"O," said Paul, smiling, "you give me credit for too much. I mean that you shall pay your board."

"But you know I have no money."

"No, I don't. I don't consider that a lady is penniless, who has an income of three hundred dollars a year."

"I don't understand you, Paul."

"Then, perhaps you will understand this," said our hero, enjoying the old lady's astonishment.

He drew from his pocket a roll of bills, and pa.s.sed them to Aunt Lucy.

The old lady looked so bewildered, that he lost no time in explaining the matter to her. Then, indeed, Aunt Lucy was happy; not only because she had become suddenly independent, but, because after years of coldness and estrangement, her brother had at last become reconciled to her.

"Now, Aunt Lucy," resumed Paul, "I'll tell you what my plans are. You shall get into the chaise with me, and go at once to New York. I think Aunt Hester will be willing to receive you as a boarder; if not, I will find you a pleasant place near by. Will that suit you?"

"It will make me very happy; but I cannot realize it. It seems like a dream."

At this moment Mrs. Mudge entered the room, and, after a moment's scrutiny, pretended to recognize Paul. Her husband followed close behind her.

"Can I believe my eyes?" she exclaimed. "Is this indeed Paul Prescott? I am very glad to see you back."

"Only a visit, Mrs. Mudge," said Paul, smiling.

"You'll stop to dinner, I hope?"

Paul thought of the soup and dry bread which he used to find so uninviting, and said that he should not have time to do so.

"We've thought of you often," said Mr. Mudge, writhing his harsh features into a smile. "There's scarcely a day that we haven't spoken of you."