had mislaid and could not put her hand upon. Was it conceivable that her son
In the pause that followed Mrs. Reinhart heard the faint monotonous sound of repeated chords, chords indicating the tuning of a distant piano, from an opposite wing of the building, and then the gruff laughter of two or three workmen, apparently lifting some heavy object, in the asphalt court below the window.
Mr. Josiah Knowler fidgeted. He wished it to be understood that his time was valuable, and half rose from his seat as he made a mechanical movement in the direction of the office bell.
"He's not been home for a fortnight; he hasn't earnt anything here Where did he get it from?"
The ellipsis in Mrs. Reinhart's speech made it in no wise unintelligible to her listener. He was accustomed to deal with the class from which Mrs. Reinhart sprang, and answered with a perfect appreciation of her meaning:
"Your son appears to have plenty of money to spend, my good woman."
"I don't know how he comes by it!" she ejaculated.
"He would appear to have resources," ventured the senior partner.
"He hasn't a farthing, sir. Not one. It's just what I can earn, and that at the best is half a crown a day, by going out to sew at ladies houses. And then the work's precarious; there's weeks and weeks when there's nothing doing."
" His companions appear to be — to be the least advisable for a lad," suggested Mr. Knowler. "My brother and I have both personally represented"
"Oh! He never will have nothing said," groaned the woman; "he's stubborn, he's terrible stubborn."
"He's incorrigibly idle," supplemented Mr. Josiah Knowler.
Mrs. Reinhart's face twitched nervously as she half turned with
