ambrose kean called with luke an evening or two later to thank mrs. merton in person for her kindness. they arrived ten minutes after mrs. tracy and harold had started for hooley's theater, and thus were saved an embarrassing meeting with two persons who would have treated them frigidly.

they were conducted upstairs by the servant, and were ushered into mrs. merton's room.

ambrose kean was naturally ill at ease, knowing that mrs. merton was acquainted with the error he had committed. but the old lady received him cordially.

"i am glad to meet the son of my old schoolmate, mary robinson," she said.

"in spite of his unworthiness?" returned ambrose, his cheek flushing with shame.

"i don't know whether he is unworthy. that remains to be seen."

"you know i yielded to temptation and committed a theft."

"yes; but it was to help your mother."

"it was, but that does not relieve me from guilt."

"you are right; still it greatly mitigates it. take my advice; forget it, and never again yield to a similar temptation."

"i will not, indeed, mrs. merton," said the young many earnestly. "i feel that i have been very fortunate in escaping the consequences of my folly, and in enlisting your sympathy."

"that is well! let us forget this disagreeable circumstance, and look forward to the future. how is mary your mother?"

"she is an invalid."

"and poor. there is a remedy for poverty. let us also hope there is a remedy for her ill-health. but tell me, why did you not come to see me before? you have been some time in chicago."

"true, but i knew you were a rich lady. i didn't think you would remember or care to hear from one so poor and obscure as my mother."

"come, i consider that far from a compliment," said the old lady. "you really thought as badly of me as that?"

"i know you better now," said ambrose, gratefully.

"it is well you do. you have no idea how intimate your mother and i used to be. she is five years my junior, i think, so that i regarded her as a younger sister. it is many years since we met. and how is she looking?"

"she shows the effects of bad health, but i don't think she looks older than her years."

"we have both changed greatly, no doubt. it is to be expected. but you can tell her that i have not forgotten the favorite companion of my school days."

"i will do so, for i know it will warm her heart and brighten her up."

"when we were girls together our worldly circumstances did not greatly differ. but i married, and my husband was very successful in business."

"while she married and lost all she had."

"it is often so. it might have been the other way. your mother might have been rich, and i poor; but i don't think she would have been spoiled by prosperity any more than i have been. now tell me how you are situated."

"i am a clerk, earning twelve dollars a week."

"and your employer--is he kind and considerate?"

"he is just, but he has strict notions. had he learned my slip the other day he would have discharged me, perhaps had me arrested. now, thanks to your prompt kindness, he knows and will know nothing of it."

"is he likely to increase your salary?"

"he will probably raise me to fifteen dollars a week next january. then i can get along very well. at present it is difficult for me, after sending my mother four dollars a week, to live on the balance of my salary."

"i should think it would be."

"still, i would have made it do, but for mother's falling sick, and so needing a larger allowance."

"i hope she is not seriously ill," said mrs. merton, with solicitude.

"no, fortunately not. i think she will be as well as usual in a few weeks."

"tell her i inquired particularly for her, and that i send her my love and remembrance."

"i shall be only too glad to do so."

the time slipped away so rapidly that luke was surprised when, looking at the french clock on the mantel, he saw that it lacked but a quarter of ten o'clock.

"mr. kean," he said, glancing at the clock, "it is getting late."

"so it is," said ambrose, rising. "i am afraid we have been trespassing upon your kindness, mrs. merton."

"not at all!" said mrs. merton, promptly. "i have enjoyed the evening, i can assure you. mr. kean, you must call again."

"i shall be glad to do so, if you will permit me."

"i wish you to do so. luke will come with you. i shall want to hear more of your mother, and how she gets along."

as they were leaving, mrs. merton slipped into the hand of ambrose kean an envelope.

"the contents is for your mother," she said. "i have made the check payable to you."

"thank you. it is another mark of your kindness."

when ambrose kean examined the check, he ascertained to his joy that it was for a hundred dollars.

"what a splendid old lady she is, luke!" he said, enthusiastically.

"she is always kind, mr. kean. i have much to be grateful to her for. i wish i could say the same of other members of the family."

"what other members of the family are there?"

"a niece, mrs. tracy, and her son, harold."

"why didn't we see them to-night?"

"i don't know. i suppose they were out."

the next day ambrose handed the check to his employer and asked if he would indorse it, and so enable him to draw the money.

james cooper took the check and examined the signature.

"eliza merton," said he. "is it the rich mrs. merton who lives on prairie avenue?"

"yes, sir."

"indeed; i did not know that you were acquainted with her."

"she and my mother were schoolmates."

"and so you keep up the acquaintance?"

"i spent last evening at her house. this check is a gift from her to my mother."

ambrose kean rose greatly in the estimation of his employer when the latter learned that kean had such an aristocratic friend, and he was treated with more respect and consideration than before.

meanwhile harold and his mother had enjoyed themselves at the theater.

"i suppose aunt eliza went to bed early, harold," said mrs. tracy, as they were on their way home.

"went to roost with the hens," suggested harold, laughing at what he thought to be a good joke.

"probably it is as well for her," said his mother. "it isn't good for old people to sit up late."

it was about half-past eleven when they were admitted by the drowsy servant.

"i suppose mrs. merton went to bed long ago, laura," said mrs. tracy.

"no, ma'am, she set up later than usual."

"that is odd. i thought she would feel lonely."

"oh, she had company, ma'am."

"company! who?"

"master luke was here all the evenin', and a young man with him."

mrs. tracy frowned ominously.

"the sly young artful!" she said to harold when they were alone. "he is trying all he can to get on aunt's weak side. something will have to be done, or we shall be left out in the cold."