I had invented the story."

"But I don't, Ben; and, for the best of all reasons, because I found
the note on the carpet, and have it in my possession now."

"Have you?" exclaimed Ben gladly.

"Here it is," said the lady, as she produced the note from the desk
before her. "It is singular such a note should have been sent you,"
she added thoughtfully.

"I think so, too. I had no suspicion when I received it, but I think
now that it was written to get to into a scrape."

"Then it must have been written by an enemy. Do you know of anyone
who would feel like doing you a bad turn?"

"No," answered Ben, shaking his head.

"Do you recognize the handwriting?"

"No; it may have been written by some person I know, but I have no
suspicion and no clew as to who it is."

"I think we will let the matter rest for a short time. If we say
nothing about it, the guilty person may betray himself."

"You are very kind to keep your confidence in me, Mrs. Hamilton," said
Ben gratefully.

"I trust you as much as ever, Ben, but I shall appear not to--for a
time."

Ben looked puzzled.

"I won't explain myself," said Mrs. Hamilton, with a smile, "but I
intend to treat you coolly for a time, as if you had incurred my
displeasure. You need not feel sensitive, however, but may consider
that I am acting."

"Then it may be as well for me to act, too," suggested Ben.

"A good suggestion! You will do well to look sober and uneasy."

"I will do my best," answered Ben brightly.

The programme was carried out. To the great delight of Mrs. Hill and
Conrad, Mrs. Hamilton scarcely addressed a word to Ben at the supper
table. When she did speak, it was with an abruptness and coldness
quite unusual for the warm-hearted woman. Ben looked depressed, fixed
his eyes on his plate, and took very little part in the conversation.
Mrs. Hill and Conrad, on the other hand, seemed in very good spirits.
They chatted cheerfully, and addressed an occasional word to Ben.
They could afford to be magnanimous, feeling that he had forfeited
their rich cousin's favor.

After supper, Conrad went into his mother's room.

"Our plan's working well, mother," he said, rubbing his hands.

"Yes, Conrad, it is. Cousin Hamilton is very angry with the boy. She
scarcely spoke a word to him."

"He won't stay long, I'll be bound. Can't you suggest, mother, that
he had better be dismissed at once?"

"No, Conrad; we have done all that is needed. We can tru