to put her foot on it.
"This is the purse that was taken from mother," said Rupert. "How came it in your pocket?"
"I don't know," faltered the widow. "I can't account for it."
"I can. Hereafter, Mrs. Marlow, if you ever enter our room again I will send for a policeman."
"It's my own purse!" asserted Mrs. Marlow, deciding to brazen it out.
For answer Rupert opened it, and showed written inside the name "Frank Sylvester."
"Do you see that, Mrs. Marlow? That is the name of the gentleman who gave me the purse."
"Why didn't I say that was my cousin's name?" thought Mrs. Marlow, but it was too late.
Rupert counted the contents of the purse, and found them intact, except the dollar which Mrs. Marlow had spent.
"I won't say anything about the money you spent," he said, "though I might claim the groceries. Good afternoon, and try to lead a better life."
Mrs. Marlow sank into a rocking-chair, and began to cry dismally. Her plans had miscarried for a certainty, and she felt angry with herself.
"Why didn't I put the purse in my trunk?" she asked herself. "Then he wouldn't have found out. Sure I cheated myself."
Rupert went upstairs with a light heart.
"Well, did you hear anything of the purse?" asked his mother.
For answer he held it up.
"Where did you get it?"
"It came from Mrs. Marlow's pocket."
"What a wicked woman!" exclaimed Grace. "She must have taken it when I was asleep."
"Did she give it up willingly? I thought she would have denied it."
"So she did, mother, but your son is a detective. I'll tell you how I managed it," and he told the story.
"There's only a dollar gone," he said in conclusion. "Don't leave it in the bureau drawer again, though I don't think Mrs. Marlow will trouble you with another call."
A day or two later the rent came due, and eight dollars had to be taken from the scanty fund, which left the family again very near destitution.
Rupert did not relax his efforts to secure a place, but when business is dull the difficulty of securing a position is much increased. He became anxious, and the prospect seemed very dark.
"I must do something," he said to himself, "if it's only selling papers. That will be better than blacking boots, though that is an honest business."
To make matters worse, his mother was unable to procure vests to make from any of the readymade clothing establishments.
"We've got all the hands we need," was the invariable answer to her applications.
They tried to economize more closely, but there was small chance for that. They had not eaten meat for three days, and remained contented with bread and tea, leaving out sugar, for they felt that this was a superfluity in their circumstances. It was emphatically a dull time, and there seemed no chance to earn anything.
"Rupert," said his mother, drawing a ring from her finger, "take this ring and pawn it. There seems no other way."
"Isn't it your wedding ring, mother?"
"Yes, Rupert, but I cannot afford to keep it while we are so poor."
Rupert took the ring, and bent his steps towards Simpson's, for he felt that there he would be likely to meet fair treatment.
CHAPTER VII.
A LUCKY MEETING
It saddened Rupert to think his mother's wedding ring must be sacrificed, but when they were actually in need of food sentiment must not be considered. After that, when they had no longer anything to pawn except articles of clothing, Rupert shuddered to think what might lay before them.
He entered Simpson's with a slow step. A woman was ahead of him and he waited for his turn.
"Well," said an attendant, courteously, "what can I do for you?"
"What will you give me on this ring?"
"What do you want on it?"
"Two dollars," answered Rupert.
"No doubt it is worth that, but we have so many rings in stock that we are not anxious to receive more. We will give you a dollar and a quarter."
Rupert hesitated, when to his surprise some one tapped him on the shoulder.
"What brings you here, Rupert?" were the words that reached his ear.
He turned round in surprise.
"Mr. Sylvester!" he exclaimed.
"I see you have not forgotten me. What brings you here?"
"Sad necessity, Mr. Sylvester. But—I didn't expect to find you here. Surely you–"
"No, I have not come here to pawn anything," said the young man, smiling. "On the contrary, I want to redeem a watch for an old schoolmate who was obliged to pawn it. He has a wife and child and was thrown out of employment four weeks since. Fortunately I ran across him, and have got him a place."
"I will wait till you have attended to your business."
Soon a gold watch was placed in Mr. Sylvester's hands, and he paid the pawnbroker twenty dollars and sixty cents. It had been pledged not quite a month for twenty dollars. The sixty cents represented the three per cent. a month interest allowed by the laws regulating pawn shops.
"Now, young man," said the attendant, "do you want the dollar and a quarter I offered you on your ring?"
"Yes," answered Rupert.
"No," interposed Frank Sylvester, quietly. "What ring is this, Rupert?"
"My mother's wedding ring."
"And you are actually reduced to pawning it?"
"Yes, Mr. Sylvester, I can't get anything to do, and we are out of money."
"You have a mother and sister, I think you told me?"
"Yes, sir."
"I think we can do better than pawn the ring. Where do you live?"
"In Elizabeth Street."
"Does your mother prefer the city to the country?"
"No, sir; but she has no choice."
"Suppose I obtain for her a position as housekeeper in the family of an elderly gentleman in Rutherford, about ten miles out on the Erie Railroad, would she accept?"
"She would be glad to do so but for Grace. She could not be separated from her."
"There would be no occasion. My uncle lives alone in a large house, and a child would make the house pleasanter."
"Some gentlemen don't like children."
"That is not the case with Uncle Ben. But let us go out. You have no further business here. We will go into the Astor House reading room and have a chat."
Rupert followed his friend to the Astor House and they ascended to the reading room on the second floor. Taking adjoining armchairs, Mr. Sylvester drew from his pocket the following letter which he showed to Rupert. It ran thus:
"My housekeeper is about to leave me, to join her married daughter in Wisconsin. I must supply her place, but I know of no one in Rutherford who would suit me. Can't you find me some one—a pleasant, ladylike person, who would make my house homelike and attractive? I think you know my tastes. Please give this matter your early attention.
"Now," continued Mr. Sylvester, "I was quite at a loss whom to recommend, but I think your mother would suit Uncle Ben."
"Suppose you call and make her acquaintance, Mr. Sylvester. Then you can tell better. That is, if you don't object to visiting our poor home."
"My dear Rupert, I shall be delighted to meet your mother. One thing I am sure of in advance, she is a lady."
"She