CHAPTER I. FRANK AND BEN.

"Is your mother at home, Frank?" asked a soft voice.

Frank Hunter was stretched on the lawn in a careless posture, but looked up quickly as the question fell upon his ear. A man of middle height and middle age was looking at him from the other side of the gate.

Frank rose from his grassy couch and answered coldly:

"Yes, sir; I believe so. I will go in and see."

"Oh, don't trouble yourself, my young friend," said Mr. Craven, opening the gate and advancing toward the door with a brisk step. "I will ring the bell; I want to see your mother on a little business."

[6]

"Seems to me he has a good deal of business with mother," Frank said to himself. "There's something about the man I don't like, though he always treats me well enough. Perhaps it's his looks."

"How are you, Frank?"

Frank looked around, and saw his particular friend, Ben Cameron, just entering the gate.

"Tip-top, Ben," he answered, cordially. "I'm glad you've come."

"I'm glad to hear it; I thought you might be engaged."

"Engaged? What do you mean, Ben?" asked Frank, with a puzzled expression.

"Engaged in entertaining your future step-father," said Ben, laughing.

"My future step-father!" returned Frank, quickly; "you are speaking in riddles, Ben."

"Oh! well, if I must speak out, I saw Mr. Craven ahead of me."

"Mr. Craven! Well, what if you did?"

"Why, Frank, you must know the cause of his attentions to your mother."

"Ben," said Frank, his face flushing with anger, "you are my friend, [7] but I don't want even you to hint at such a thing as that."

"Have I displeased you, Frank?"

"No, no; I won't think of it any more."

"I am afraid, Frank, you will have to think of it more," said his companion, gravely.

"You surely don't mean, Ben, that you have the least idea that my mother would marry such a man as that?" exclaimed Frank, pronouncing the last words contemptuously.

"It's what all the village is talking about," said Ben, significantly.

"Then I wish all the village would mind its own business," said Frank, hotly.

"I hope they are wrong, I am sure. Craven's a mean, sneaking sort of man, in my opinion. I should be sorry to have him your step-father."

"It's a hateful idea that such a man should take the place of my dear, noble father," exclaimed Frank, with excitement. "My mother wouldn't think of it."

But even as he spoke, there was a fear in his heart that there might be something in the rumor after all. He could not be blind to the [8] frequent visits which Mr. Craven had made at the house of late. He knew that his mother had come to depend on him greatly in matters of business. He had heard her even consult him about her plans for himself, and this had annoyed him. Once he had intimated his dislike of Mr. Craven, but his mother had reproved him, saying that she considered him a true friend, and did not know how to do without him. But he stifled this apprehension, and assured Ben, in the most positive terms, that there was nothing whatever in the report. Whether there was or not, we shall be able to judge better by entering the house and being present at the interview.

Mrs. Hunter was sitting in a rocking-chair, with a piece of needle-work in her hand. She was a small, delicate-looking woman, still pretty, though nearer forty than thirty, and with the look of one who would never depend on herself, if she could find some one to lean upon for counsel and guidance. Frank, who was strong and resolute, had inherited these characteristics not from her but from his father, who had died [9] two years previous, his strong and vigorous constitution succumbing to a sudden fever, which in his sturdy frame found plenty to prey upon.

And who was Mr. Craven?

He was, or professed to be, a lawyer, who six months before had come to the town of Shelby. He had learned that Mrs. Hunter was possessed of a handsome competence, and had managed an early introduction. He succeeded in getting her to employ him in some business matters, and under cover of this had called very often at her house. From the first he meant to marry her if he could, as his professional income was next to nothing, and with the money of the late Mr. Hunter he knew that he would be comfortably provided for for life. This very afternoon he had selected to make his proposal, and he knew so well the character and the weakness of the lady that he felt a tolerable assurance of success. He knew very well that Frank did not like him, and he in turn liked our young hero no better, but he always treated him with the utmost [10] graciousness and suavity from motives of policy.

The room in which they were seated was very neatly and tastefully furnished. He looked, to employ a common phrase, "as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth," and his voice was soft and full of suavity.

They had evidently been talking on business, for he is saying, "Now that our business interview is over, there is another subject, my dear Mrs. Hunter, on which I wish to speak to you."

She looked up, not suspecting what was coming, and said, "What is it, Mr. Craven?"

"It's a very delicate matter. I hardly know how to introduce it."

Something in his look led her to suspect now, and she said, a little nervously, "Go on, Mr. Craven."

"My dear Mrs. Hunter, the frequent visits I have made here have given me such a view of your many amiable qualities, that almost without knowing it, I have come to love you."

Mrs. Hunter dropped her work nervously, and seemed agitated.

[11]

"I esteem you, Mr. Craven," she said, in a low voice, "but I have never thought of marrying again."

"Then think of it now, I entreat you. My happiness depends upon it—think of that. When I first discovered that I loved you, I tried hard to bury the secret in my own breast, but—but it became too strong for me, and now I place my fate in your hands."

By this time he had edged round to her side, and lifted her hand gently in his, and pressed it to his lips.

"Do not drive me to despair," he murmured softly.

"I—I never thought you loved me so much, Mr. Craven," said Mrs. Hunter, in agitation.

"Because I tried to hide it."

"Can you not still be my friend and give up such thoughts?"

"Never, never!" he answered, shaking his head. "If you deny my suit, I shall at once leave this village, and bury my sorrow and desolation of heart in some wild prairie scene, far from the haunts of men, where I [12] shall linger out the remnant of my wretched life."

"Don't—pray don't, Mr. Craven," she said, in a tone of distress.

But, feeling that surrender was at hand, he determined to carry the fortress at once. He sank down on his knees, and, lifting his eyes, said:

"Say yes, I entreat you, dear Mrs. Hunter, or I shall be miserable for life."

"Pray get up, Mr. Craven."

"Never, till I hear the sweet word, 'yes.'"

"Yes, then," she answered, hastily, scarcely knowing what she said.

At this moment, while Mr. Craven was yet on his knees, the door opened suddenly, and Katy, the Irish maid-of-all-work, entered:

"Holy St. Pathrick!" she exclaimed, as she witnessed the tableau.

Mrs. Hunter blushed crimson, but Mr. Craven was master of the situation. Cleverly taking advantage of it to fix the hasty consent he had obtained, he turned to Katy with his habitual smirk.

[13]

"Katy, my good girl," he said, "you must not be too much startled. Shall I explain to her, dear Mrs. Hunter?"

The widow, with scarlet face, was about to utter a feeble remonstrance, but he did not wait for it.

"Your mistress and I are engaged, Katy," he said, briskly. "You shall be the first to congratulate us."

"Indade, sir!" exclaimed Katy. "Is it goin' to be married, ye are?"

"Yes, Katy."

"I congratulate you, sir," she said, significantly.

"Plague take her!" thought Mr. Craven; "so she has the impudence to object, has she? I'll soon set her packing when I come into possession."

But he only said, with his usual suavity:

"You are quite right, Katy. I feel that I am indeed fortunate."

"Indade, mum, I didn't think you wud marry ag'in," said Katy, bluntly.

"I—I didn't intend to, Katy, but—"

"I couldn't be happy without her," said [14] Mr. Craven, playfully. "But, Katy, you had something to say to Mrs. Hunter."

"What will I get for supper, mum?"

"Anything you like, Katy," said Mrs. Hunter, who felt too much flustered to give orders. "Will you stay to supper, Mr. Craven?"

"Not to-night, dear Mrs. Hunter. I am sure you will want to think over the new plans of happiness we have formed. I will stay a few minutes yet, and then bid you farewell till to-morrow."

"That's the worst news Katy O'Grady's heard yet," said Katy, as she left the room and returned to her own department. "How can my mistress, that's a rale lady, if ever there was one, take up wid such a mane apology for a man. Shure I wouldn't take him meself, not if he'd go down on forty knees to me—no, I wouldn't," and Katy tossed her head.

[15]

CHAPTER II. MR. CRAVEN'S COURTSHIP.

When Katy left the room, Mr. Craven still kept his place at the side of the widow.

"I hope," he said softly, "you were not very much annoyed at Katy's sudden entrance?"

"It was awkward," said Mrs. Hunter.

"True, but, after all, is there anything to be ashamed of in our love?"

"I am afraid, Mr. Craven, I do not love you."

"Not yet, but you will. I am sure you will when you see how completely I am devoted to you."

"It seems so sudden," faltered Mrs. Hunter.

"But, setting aside my affection, think how much it will relieve you of care. Dear Mrs. Hunter, the care of your property and the [16] responsibility of educating and training your son is too much for a woman."

"Frank never gives me any trouble," said Mrs. Hunter. "He is a good boy."

"He is a disagreeable young scamp, in my opinion," thought Mr. Craven, but he said, unwittingly speaking the truth:

"He is indeed a noble boy, with excellent qualities, but you will soon be called upon to form plans for his future, and here you will need the assistance of a man."

"I don't know but what you are right, Mr. Craven. I should have consulted you."

"Only one who fills a father's place, dear Mrs. Hunter, can do him justice."

"I am afraid Frank won't like the idea of my marrying again," said Mrs. Hunter, anxiously.

"He may not like it at first, but he will be amenable to reason. Tell him that it is for your happiness."

"But I don't know. I can't feel sure that it is."

"I am having more trouble than I expected," thought Mr. Craven. "I [17] must hurry up the marriage or I may lose her, and, what is of more importance, the money she represents. By the way, I had better speak on that subject."

"There are some who will tell you that I have only sought you because you are rich in this world's goods—that I am a base and mercenary man, who desires to improve his circumstances by marriage, but you, I hope, dear Mrs. Hunter—may I say, dear Mary—will never do me that injustice."

"I do not suspect you of it," said Mrs. Hunter, who was never ready to suspect the motives of others, though in this case Mr. Craven had truly represented his object in seeking her.

"I knew you would not, but others may try to misrepresent me, and therefore I feel it necessary to explain to you that my wealth, though not equal to your own, is still considerable."

"I have never thought whether you were rich or poor," said Mrs. Hunter. "It would not influence my decision."

[18]

While she spoke, however, it did excite in her a momentary surprise to learn that since Mr. Craven was rich, he should settle down in so small and unimportant a place as Shelby, where he could expect little business of a professional nature.

"I know your generous, disinterested character," he said; "but still I wish to explain to you frankly my position, to prove to you that I am no fortune-hunter. I have twenty thousand dollars invested in Lake Superior mining stocks, and I own a small house in New York City, worth about fifteen thousand dollars. It is not much," he added, modestly, "but is enough to support me comfortably, and will make it clear that I need not marry from mercenary motives. I shall ask the privilege of assisting to carry out your plans for Frank, in whom I feel a warm interest."

"You are very generous and kind, Mr. Craven," said Mrs. Hunter, "but his father amply provided for him. Two-thirds of his property was left to Frank, and will go to him on his twenty-first birth-day."

[19]

"Drat the boy," thought Mr. Craven, "he stands between me and a fortune."

But this thought was not suffered to appear in his face.

"I am almost sorry," he said, with consummate hypocrisy, "that he is so well provided for, since now he does not stand in need of my help, that is, in a pecuniary way. But my experience of the world can at least be of service to him, and I will do my best to make up to him for the loss of his dear father."

These last words were feelingly spoken. She realized how much she was wanting in the ability to guide and direct a boy of Frank's age. Mr. Craven was a lawyer, and a man of the world. He would be able, as he said, to relieve her from all care about his future, and it was for Frank that she now lived. Her feelings were not enlisted in this marriage with Mr. Craven. Indeed, on some accounts it would be a sacrifice.

The result was, that twenty minutes later, when he started homeward, Mrs. Hunter had ratified her promise, and consented to an early [20] marriage. Mr. Craven felt that he had, indeed, achieved a victory, and left the house with a heart exulting in his coming prosperity.

Frank Hunter and Ben Cameron were on the lawn, conversing, when the lawyer passed them.

"Good afternoon, Frank," he said with suavity.

"Good afternoon, sir," answered Frank, gravely.

"The old fellow is very familiar," said Ben, when Mr. Craven had passed out of the gate.

"He is more familiar than I like," answered Frank. "I don't know why it is, Ben, but I can't help disliking him."

He had reason to dislike Mr. Craven, and he was destined to have still further cause, though he did not know it at the time.

[21]

CHAPTER III. UNWELCOME NEWS.

Shortly after Mr. Craven's departure, Ben announced that he must be going. Left alone, Frank went into the house. He felt rather sober, for though he did not believe that his mother was in any danger of marrying again—least of all, Mr. Craven—the mere possibility disturbed him.

"Is mother up stairs, Katy?" he asked.

"Yes," said Katy, looking very knowing. "She went up as soon as Mr. Craven went away."

"He staid a long time. He seems to come here pretty often."

"May be he'll come oftener and stay longer, soon," said Katy, nodding her head vigorously.

"What do you mean, Katy? What makes you say such things?"

[22]

"What do I mane? Why do I say such things? You'll know pretty soon, I'm thinking."

"I wish you'd tell me at once what you mean?" said Frank, impatiently.

"Mr. Craven doesn't come here for nothing, bad 'cess to him," said Katy, oracularly.

"You don't mean, Katy—" exclaimed Frank, in excitement.

"I mean that you're goin' to have a step-father, Master Frank, and a mighty mane one, too; but if your mother's satisfied, it ain't for Katy O'Grady to say a word, though he isn't fit for her to wipe her shoes on him."

"Who told you such a ridiculous story?" demanded Frank, angrily.

"He told me himself shure," said Katy. "Didn't I pop in when he was on his knees at your mother's feet, and didn't he ask me to congratulate him, and your mother said never a word? What do you say to that Master Frank, now?"

"I think there must be some mistake, Katy," said Frank, turning pale. "I will go and ask my mother."

[23]

"No wonder the child can't abide havin' such a mane step-father as that," soliloquized Katy. "He looks like a sneakin' hyppercrite, that he does, and I'd like to tell him so."

Mrs. Hunter was an amiable woman, but rather weak of will, and easily controlled by a stronger spirit. She had yielded to Mr. Craven's persuasions because she had not the power to resist for any length of time. That she did not feel a spark of affection for him, it is hardly necessary to say, but she had already begun to feel a little reconciled to an arrangement which would relieve her from so large a share of care and responsibility. She was placidly thinking it all over when Frank entered the room hastily.

"Have you wiped your feet, Frank?" she asked, for she had a passion for neatness. "I am afraid you will track dirt into the room."

"Yes—no—I don't know," answered Frank, whose thoughts were on another subject. "Has Mr. Craven been here?"

"Yes," replied his mother, blushing a little.

[24]

"He seemed to stay pretty long."

"He was here about an hour."

"He comes pretty often, too."

"I consult him about my business affairs, Frank."

"Look here, mother, what do you think Ben Cameron told me to-day?"

"I don't know, I am sure, Frank."

"He said it was all over the village that you were going to marry him."

"I—I didn't think it had got round so soon," said the widow, nervously.

"So soon! Why, you don't mean to say there's anything in it, mother?" said Frank, impetuously.

"I hope it won't displease you very much, Frank," said Mrs. Hunter, in embarrassment.

"Is it true? Are you really going to marry that man?"

"He didn't ask me till this afternoon, and, of course, it took me by surprise, and I said so, but he urged me so much that I finally consented."

"You don't love him, mother? I am sure you can't love such a man as that."

[25]

"I never shall love any one again in that way, Frank—never any one like your poor father."

"Then why do you marry him?"

"He doesn't ask me to love him. But he can relieve me of a great many cares and look after you."

"I don't want anybody to look after me, mother—that is, anybody but you. I hate Mr. Craven!"

"Now that is wrong, Frank. He speaks very kindly of you—very kindly indeed. He says he takes a great interest in you."

"I am sorry I cannot return the interest he professes. I dislike him, and I always have. I hope you won't be angry, mother, if I tell you just what I think of him. I think he's after your property, and that is what made him offer himself. He is poor as poverty, though I don't care half so much for that as I do for other things."

"No, Frank; you are mistaken there," said credulous Mrs. Hunter, eagerly. "He is not poor."

"How do you know?"

[26]

"He told me that he had twenty thousand dollars' worth of mining stock out West somewhere, besides owning a house in New York."

Frank looked astonished.

"If he has as much property as that," he said, "I don't see what makes him come here. I don't believe his business brings him in three hundred dollars a year."

"That's the very reason, Frank. He has money enough, and doesn't mind if business is dull. He generously offered to pay—or was it help pay?—the expenses of your education; but I told him that you didn't need it."

"If I did, I wouldn't take it from him. But what you tell me surprises me, mother. He doesn't look as if he was worth five hundred dollars in the world. What made him tell you all this?"

"He said that some people would accuse him of being a fortune-hunter, and he wanted to convince me that he was not one."

"It may be a true story, and it may not," said Frank.

"You are really very unjust, Frank," said his mother. "I don't pretend to love Mr. Craven, and he doesn't expect it, but I am sure he has [27] been very kind, and he takes a great deal of interest in you, and you will learn to know him better."

"When you are married to him?"

"Yes."

"Mother," exclaimed Frank, impetuously, "don't marry this man! Let us live alone, as we have done. We don't want any third person to come in, no matter who he is. I'll take care of you."

"You are only a boy, Frank."

"But I am already fifteen. I shall soon be a man at any rate, and I am sure we can get along as well as we have done."