$75.00

ROCKLAND, Jan. 1st, 1859.

Now Helen had her own private reasons for wishing to receive the small
sum which was due her at this time without any unfair deduction,--reasons
which we need not inquire into too particularly, as we may be very sure
that they were right and womanly. So, when she looked over this account
of Mr. Silas Peckham's, and saw that he had contrived to pare down her
salary to something less than half its stipulated amount, the look which
her countenance wore was as near to that of righteous indignation as her
gentle features and soft blue eyes would admit of its being.

"Why, Mr. Peckham," she said, "do you mean this? If I am of so much
value to you that you must take off twenty-five dollars for ten days'
absence, how is it that my salary is to be cut down to less than
seventy-five dollars a quarter, if I remain here?"

"I gave you fair notice," said Silas. "I have a minute of it I took down
immed'ately after the intervoo."

He lugged out his large pocket-book with the strap going all round it,
and took from it a slip of paper which confirmed his statement.

"Besides," he added, slyly, "I presoom you have received a liberal
pecooniary compensation from Squire Venner for nussin' his daughter."

Helen was looking over the bill while he was speaking.

"Board and lodging for ten days, Mr. Peckham,--whose board and lodging,
pray?"

The door opened before Silas Peckham could answer, and Mr. Bernard walked
into the parlor. Helen was holding the bill in her hand, looking as any
woman ought to look who has been at once wronged and insulted.

"The last turn of the thumbscrew!" said Mr. Bernard to himself.

"What is it, Helen? You look troubled."

She handed him the account.

He looked at the footing of it. Then he looked at the items. Then he
looked at Silas Peckham.

At this moment Silas was sublime. He was so transcendently unconscious
of the emotions going on in Mr. Bernard's mind at the moment, that he had
only a single thought.

"The accaount's correc'ly cast, I presoom;--if the' 's any mistake of
figgers or addin' 'em up, it'll be made all right. Everything's
accordin' to agreement. The minute written immed'ately after the
intervoo is here in my possession."

Mr. Bernard looked at Helen. Just what would have happened to Silas
Peckham, as he stood then and there, but for the interposition of a
merciful Providence, nobody knows or ever will know; for at that