to find work, sir."

"Have you applied anywhere yet?"

Phil gave a little account of his unsuccessful applications, and the
objections that had been made to him.

"Yes, yes," said the old gentleman thoughtfully, "more confidence is
placed in a boy who lives with his parents."

The two walked on together until they reached Twelfth Street. It was
a considerable walk, and Phil was surprised that his companion should
walk, when he could easily have taken a Broadway stage, but the old
gentleman explained this himself.

"I find it does me good," he said, "to spend some time in the open air,
and even if walking tires me it does me good."

At Twelfth Street they turned off.

"I am living with a married niece," he said, "just on the other side of
Fifth Avenue."

At the door of a handsome four-story house, with a brown-stone front,
the old gentleman paused, and told Phil that this was his residence.

"Then, sir, I will bid you good-morning," said Phil.

"No, no; come in and lunch with me," said Mr. Carter hospitably.

He had, by the way, mentioned that his name was Oliver Carter, and that
he was no longer actively engaged in business, but was a silent partner
in the firm of which his nephew by marriage was the nominal head.

"Thank you, sir," answered Phil.

He was sure that the invitation was intended to be accepted, and he saw
no reason why he should not accept it.

"Hannah," said the old gentleman to the servant who opened the door,
"tell your mistress that I have brought a boy home to dinner with me."

"Yes, sir," answered Hannah, surveying Phil in some surprise.

"Come up to my room, my young friend," said Mr. Carter. "You may want to
prepare for lunch."

Mr. Carter had two connecting rooms on the second floor, one of which he
used as a bed-chamber. The furniture was handsome and costly, and Phil,
who was not used to city houses, thought it luxurious.

Phil washed his face and hands, and brushed his hair. Then a bell rang,
and following his new friend, he went down to lunch.

Lunch was set out in the front basement. When Phil and Mr. Carter
entered the room a lady was standing by the fire, and beside her was a
boy of about Phil's age. The lady was tall and slender, with light-brown
hair and cold gray eyes.

"Lavinia," said Mr. Carter, "I have brought a young friend with me to
lunch."

"So I see," answered the lady. "Has he been here before?"

"No; he is a new acquaintance."

"I would speak to hi