A Crooked Path. Mrs. Alexander

keeping the mutton as hot as she can for you. Dear me! how sick I am of roast mutton! but I suppose it is cheap"—contemptuously.

      "Poor dear! it shall have something nice to-morrow," returned Mrs. Liddell, with her usual strong good temper.

      "I suppose you are too tired, Katherine, to come with me. The band plays in Kensington Gardens to-day, and I wanted so much to go and hear it."

      "I am indeed! Besides, mother has a great deal to tell you when we have had some dinner."

      "Oh, indeed! Has your book been accepted, Mrs. Liddell? or has that terrible uncle of ours declared Katherine to be his heiress?"

      "Have a little patience, and you shall hear everything."

      "I am dying of curiosity and impatience. Here, Sarah, do bring up dinner—Mrs. Liddell is so hungry!"

      The announcement that Katherine was invited to live with John Liddell created a tornado of amazement, envy, anticipation—with an undercurrent of exultant pride that they were at last recognized by the only rich man in the family—in the mind of the pretty, impressionable little widow.

      "Gracious! What a grand thing for Kate! But she will be moped to death, and he will starve her. Why, Katherine, when it is known that a millionaire has adopted you his den will be besieged by your admirers. You will never be able to stand such a life for long at a time. Suppose I relieve guard every fortnight? You must let me have my innings too. Old gentlemen always like me, I am so cheerful. Then I might have the boys to see him; you know he ought to divide the property between us."

      "Of course he ought. I wish he would have us alternately; it would be a great relief," said Katherine, laughing.

      "I fancy he is im-mensely rich," continued Ada. "Why, Mr. Errington evidently knew his name."

      "Who is Mr. Errington?" asked Mrs. Liddell, with languid curiosity.

      "Did you never hear of the Calcutta Erringtons?" cried Ada, with infinite superiority. "There are as rich as Jews, and one of the greatest houses in India. Old Mr. Errington bought a fine place in the country lately, and this young man—I'm sure I don't know if he is young; he is as grave as a judge and as stiff as a poker—at all events he is an only son. I met him at the Burnett's yesterday. Well, he seemed to know Mr. Liddell's name quite well. Colonel Ormonde pricked up his ears too when I said you had gone to see him. It is a great advantage to have a rich old bachelor uncle, Katherine, but you must not keep him all to yourself."

      The next few days were agitated and much occupied. Katherine went for part of each to read and write and market for the old recluse, and he grew less formidable, but not more likable, as he became more familiar. He was an extraordinary example of a human being converted into a money-making and accumulating machine. He was not especially irritable; indeed his physical powers were weak and dying of every species of starvation; but his coldness was supernatural. Fortunately for Katherine, his former housekeeper was greedy and extravagant, so that his niece's management seemed wise and economical, and she had an excellent backer-up in Mr. Newton.

      The old miser was with difficulty persuaded to see his sister-in-law; but Mrs. Liddell insisted on an interview, and Mr. Newton himself supported her through the trying ordeal.

      The mother's heart sank within her at she sight of the gloomy, desolate abode in which her bright daughter was to be immured; but she comforted herself by reflecting that it need not be for long.

      Mr. Liddell did not rise from the easy-chair in which he sat crouched together, his thin gray locks escaping as usual from under the skull-cap, his long lean brown hands grasping the arms of his chair, when Mrs. Liddell came in; neither did he hold out his hand. He looked at her fixedly with his glittering dark eyes.

      "You wanted to see me?" he said. "Why?"

      "Because I thought it right to see and speak with you before committing my only child to your keeping."

      "But you have done it!—She has agreed to the conditions, has'nt she?" turning to Newton. "If you go back, I must have my money back."

      "Of course, my dear sir—of course," soothingly.

      "I am glad that Katherine can be of use to you. I do not wish to retract anything I have agreed to, but I wish to remind you that my child is young; that you must let her go in and out, and have opportunities for air and exercise."

      "She may do as she likes; she can do anything. So long as she reads to me, and buys my food without wasting my money, I don't want her company. She seems to know something of the value of money, and I'll keep her in pledge till you have paid me. I'll never let myself be cheated again, as I was by your worthless husband."

      "Let the dead rest," said Mrs. Liddell, sadly. "I have paid you what I could."

      "Ay, the principal—the bare principal. What is that? Do men lend for the love of lending?" he returned, viciously.

      "Pray do not vex yourself. It is useless to look back—annoying and useless," said the lawyer, with decision.

      "Useless indeed! What more have you to say?"

      "I should like to see the room my daughter is to occupy. It is as well she should have the comforts necessary to health, for all our sakes. You will not find one who will serve you as Katherine can, even for a high price. I think you feel this yourself," said Mrs. Liddell, steadily.

      "You may go where you like, but do not trouble me. You can come and see your daughter, but I shall not want to see you; and she may go and see you of a Sunday, when there are no newspapers to be read; but, mark you I will not pay for carriages or horses or omnibuses; and mark also that I have made my will, and I'll not alter it in any one's favor. Your daughter will have her food and lodging and my countenance and protection."

      "She has done without these for nineteen years," said Mrs. Liddell, with a slight smile. "But you have given me very opportune help, for which I am grateful; so I have accepted your terms. Kate shall stay with you till I have paid you principal and interest, and then I warn you I shall reclaim my hostage."

      "She'll be a good while with me," he said, with a sneer. "None of you—you, your husband, or your son—ever had thirty pounds to spare in your lives."

      "Time will show," returned Mrs. Liddell, with admirable steadiness and temper. "Now I will bid you good-day, and take advantage of your permission to look over your house."

      "Let me show you the way," said Newton. "I shall return to you presently, Mr. Liddell."

      The old man bent his head. "See that the girl comes to-morrow," he said, and leaned back wearily in his chair.

      The friendly lawyer led the way upstairs, and showed Mrs. Liddell a large room, half bed, half sitting, with plenty of heavy old-fashioned furniture. "This was, I think, the drawing-room," said Mr. Newton; "and having extracted permission from my very peculiar client to have the house cleaned, so far as it could be done, which it sorely needed, the person I employed selected the best of the furniture for this room. We propose to give the next room at the back to the servant. You have, I believe, found one?"

      "Yes, a respectable elderly woman, of whom I have had an excellent character."

      After Mrs. Liddell had visited the rooms upstairs—mere dismantled receptacles of rubbish—and they returned to what was to be Katherine's abode, she sat down on the ponderous sofa, and in spite of her efforts to control herself the tears would well up and roll over.

      "I feel quite ashamed of myself," said she, in a broken voice; "but when I think of my Katie, here alone, with that cruel old man, it is too much for my strength. She has been so tenderly reared, her life, though quiet and humble, has been so cared for, so tranquil, that I shrink from the idea of her banishment here."

      "It is not unnatural, my dear madam, but indeed the trial is worth enduring. Do not believe that the will of which Mr. Liddell speaks is irrevocable. He has made two or three to my certain knowledge, and it would be foolish to cut your daughter off from, any chance of sharing his fortune,