Chapter XXIV. Raising the Rent - Page 2

may be said that each was mutually attracted by the other.

"Poor Philip has his own troubles," said Mrs. Forbush. "He has lost his place through the malice and jealousy of Mr. and Mrs. Pitkin, for I am sure that Lavinia is the cause of his dismissal, and I don't know when he will be able to get another."

"You won't send him away, mother, if he can't pay his board?"

"No," answered her mother warmly. "Philip is welcome to stay with us as long as we have a roof over our heads, whether he can pay his board or not."

This answer seemed very satisfactory to Julia, who rose impulsively and kissed her mother.

"That's a good mother," she said. "It would be a pity to send poor Philip into the street."

"You seem to like Philip," said Mrs. Forbush, smiling faintly.

"Yes, mother. You know I haven't any brother, and Phil seems just like a brother to me."

Just then the door opened, and Philip himself entered the room.

Generally he came home looking depressed, after a long and ineffectual search for employment. Now he was fairly radiant with joy.

"Phil, you've got a place; I know you have!" exclaimed Julia, noticing his glad expression. "Where is it? Is it a good one?"

"Have you really got a place, Philip?" asked Mrs. Forbush.

"Yes, for the present."

"Do you think you shall like your employer?"

"He is certainly treating me very well," said Phil, smiling. "He has paid me twenty dollars in advance."

"Then the age of wonders has not passed," said the widow. "Of course I believe you, Philip, but it seems extraordinary."

"There is something more extraordinary to come," said Phil. "He has sent you some money, too."

"Me!" exclaimed Mrs. Forbush, in great surprise.

"What can he know about me?"

"I told him about you."

"But we are strangers."

"He used to know you, and still feels an interest in you, Mrs. Forbush."

"Who can it be?" said the widow, looking bewildered.

"I don't want to keep you in suspense any longer, so I may as well say that it is your Uncle Oliver."

"Uncle Oliver! Why, he is in Florida."

"No; he came home from Charleston. I happened to be at the pier--I went down to see if I could get a job at smashing baggage--when I saw him walking down the gang-plank."

"Has he gone to his old quarters at Mr. Pitkin's?"

"No; what I told about the way they treated you and me made him angry, and he drove to the Astor House. I have a room there, too, and am to act as his private