mrs. palmer herself went to the door and opened it. there entered a thickset young man, of very dark complexion, with an unhealthy color on his bloated cheeks. his dress was disarranged, his hat sat on his head with a rakish slant downward, revealing coarse, unkempt black hair.

"good-evening, mother," said the new-comer, staggering forward and sinking into the rocking-chair usually occupied by the widow herself.

"good-evening, stephen," said mrs. palmer, gravely.

"evenin', sister grace," said the intruder, looking about for a glimpse of the little girl, who was staring at him uneasily.

the little girl responded reluctantly.

"where's paul?" he asked next.

"he's gone out for a short walk."

"no matter. i don't like paul; he puts on airs. he doesn't treat me with the respect due to a—hic—older brother."

[pg 34]

"paul's a good boy," said grace, rather indignantly; for, though timid, she was always ready to rush to the defense of her favorite brother.

"hey! what's that? no impudence, little chicken. don't you know i'm your brother, and more than twice as old as you?"

grace was about to reply, but her mother gave her a warning glance.

"you don't seem very glad to see me," said stephen, scowling.

"you don't seem very glad to see me," said stephen, scowling.

"i should be more glad to see you if your habits were good, stephen," said mrs. palmer, gravely.

"who says—hic—that my habits ain't good? show me the man; that's all i want. show him to me, i say. if it's paul, i'll let him know who i am," said stephen, belligerently.

"i don't need any one to tell me, stephen. your appearance is sufficient to show that you have been drinking."

"all gentlemen drink, mother. it's good for the health. i ain't one of your sneaking 'sons of temperance.' i know how to behave, i want you to understand. i'm a gentleman, i am."

"gentlemen don't stagger when they walk, and talk thick as you do, stephen."

"you needn't lecture me any more, mrs. palmer—don't you hear?" said stephen, becoming irritated.

[pg 35]"when i come in of an evenin' to make a neighborly call, you might treat me different. have you had supper?"

"yes."

"i haven't. i haven't eaten a blessed thing since mornin'."

"if you would like, i will get you something, stephen."

"that's the way to talk, old lady. i 'cept—hic—your kind invitation."

"my mother isn't an old lady," said grace, who was as ready to stand up for her mother as for her brother.

"my mother isn't an old lady!" repeated stephen, with drunken gravity. "what is she, then? she isn't an old gentleman. of course not."

"hush, grace!" said mrs. palmer. "it's of no consequence whether i am called an old lady or not. would you like some tea, stephen?" she inquired.

"you haven't got any whisky in the house, have you, mother?"

"no; we don't keep it. tea will be much better for you."

in a few minutes a cup of tea, some cold meat, and bread and butter were placed before stephen, who ate and drank with eager relish. it was true, as he had[pg 36] said, that he had not broken his fast since morning, though he had drank since then more than was good for him.

his meal seemed somewhat to sober him.

"i say, mother," he began, pushing back his chair from the table, "you're livin' in luxury, while i'm a poor, miserable fellow without a home."

"i am sorry to hear it, stephen. it is your own fault. you are surely able to earn a comfortable living for yourself."

"my health ain't good, and i can't get work half the time."

it seemed very ridiculous to one who observed his strong frame to think of him as being in poor health.

"your health would be better if you would abstain from drink, stephen," said mrs. palmer.

"oh, hush up! i've had enough of that talk. i'm a gen'leman, and i'll do as i please. mother, will you do me a favor?"

"what is it, stephen?"

"lend me five dollars. i'll pay it back 'morrow or next day—honor of a gen'leman."

mrs. palmer surveyed her visitor with some indignation, and answered, sharply:

"are you not ashamed, stephen palmer, to ask such a thing of me?"

[pg 37]"why should i be 'shamed?"

"you, a strong young man, with only yourself to support, ask me, a weak woman, dependent upon a boy for support, to lend you money?"

"i'll pay it back 'morrow or next day."

"you know very well you would do no such thing. you would spend it in a drunken carouse with your disorderly companions. no, stephen palmer, i have no money for you, or such as you."

"is that the way you treat a son of yourn?"

"you are no son of mine. you are my step-son, but your bad conduct troubled your father for years before his death. you have no claim upon me or mine."

stephen eyed her with dull anger. even in his drunken condition he felt the severity of her words.

"i say, mrs. palmer, what did you do with my father's money—the money that ought to have come to me? you cheated me out of it, and you are livin' in luxury, while i have no home."

"you know very well," said mrs. palmer, disdainfully, "that your poor father left no property, except the little furniture you see in these poor rooms. he might have been in good circumstances had you not involved him in losses, and reduced him to poverty by your bad courses."

[pg 38]"you've got all the money between you—you, and paul, and grace," persisted stephen, angrily.

"you know it's a wicked falsehood, stephen!" said grace, firing up like a kitten at her step-brother's insulting words. "you're a bad man!"

"hoity-toity! i'm a bad man, am i, little vixen?" said stephen, glowering at her.

"yes, you are!"

"hush, grace! little girls should not talk too much!" said her mother, fearing that stephen might become dangerously incensed and proceed to violence.

though he was affected by drink, she felt that she could not offer any adequate resistance in such a case.

"if paul would only come home!" she said to herself. he was only a boy; still with him in the house she would feel comparatively safe.

"come, old lady," said stephen, "i see you want to get rid of me. give me some money, and i will begone."

"i have no money for you, stephen."

"didn't paul bring home some money to-night?"

paul often handed his mother the money he had earned during the day, and would probably do so before he went to bed, but fortunately, as she considered, he had not yet done so.

[pg 39]"he brought home money, but he has it in his own pocket," she answered.

"are you sure he didn't give it to you?" asked stephen, suspiciously.

"no, he did not."

"then he ought to. he's a selfish boy, to—hic—keep it all himself."

"he doesn't keep it himself. he will probably hand it to me before he goes to bed."

"then i'll come round to-morrow mornin', and you can give me some."

"it will be of no use, stephen. paul's money goes to support the family, and you have no claim upon it."

"haven't you any money in the house, mrs. palmer?"

"i decline to answer the question, stephen palmer. all i can say is, that i have no money for you."

"come, old lady, you're puttin' on airs. i won't have it. do you hear me? i say i won't have it!" and the wretched fellow pounded on the table fiercely with his fist.

just then, most unluckily, grace started, and let the gold piece, which she had been holding firmly in her hand, fall on the floor.

her brother espied it, and his eyes gleamed with drunken joy.

[pg 40]"ho, ho!" he said. "gold pieces rollin' 'round! you're mighty poor, ain't you? that's just what i need."

he got up from the chair, and approaching grace, who by this time had picked up the gold, seized her roughly by the arm, and exclaimed:

"give me that gold piece, young one, or i'll wring your neck!"

grace shrank and cowered under his brutal grasp, but still clutched the money, though pale with terror.

"it's mine!" she said. "you sha'n't have it."

"we'll see!" said the ruffian, tightening his grasp and shaking her roughly.