Family Pride

"Mark," and Wilford's voice was husky with emotion; "you've stumbled upon the very thing which is tormenting my life out of me. Aunt Betsy has never turned up or been heard from since that night. For aught I know she was murdered, or spirited away, and I am half distracted. I'd give a thousand dollars to know what has become of her."

"Put down half that pile and I'll tell you," was Mark's nonchalant reply, while Wilford, seizing his shoulder and compelling him to look up, exclaimed: "You know, then? Tell me--you do know? Where is she?"

"Safe in Silverton, I presume," was the reply, and then Mark told his story, to which Wilford listened, half incredulous, half indignant, and a good deal relieved.

"You are a splendid fellow, Mark, though I must say you meddled, but I know you did not do it unselfishly. Yes, on the whole, I thank you and Helen, too, for saving me that mortification. I feel like a new man, knowing the old lady is safe at home, where I trust she will remain. And that Tom, who called here yesterday, asking to be our clerk, is the youth I saw at the opera. I thought his face was familiar. Let him come of course. In my gratitude I feel like patronizing the entire Tubbs family."

And so it was this flash of gratitude for a peril escaped which procured for young Tom Tubbs the situation of clerk in the office of Cameron and Ray, the application for such situation having been urged by the ambitious Mattie, who felt her dignity considerably increased when she could speak of Brother Tom in company with Messrs. Cameron & Ray. And it was also a part of the same gratitude which suggested the huge package of merino and gingham, calico and linen, together with the handsome silk shawl and black lace veil, which a few days later was left by the express boy at the door of the farmhouse for Miss Betsy Barlow, who in a long letter overwhelmed Katy with her thanks, and nearly let out her visit to New York, as yet a secret to Mrs. Wilford.