“Do not mistake, Mr. Smith. My errand is not of the sort which you appear to expect. My employer--I am myself an expert accountant, and the only one necessary to our business--my employer does not know of my present visit. Some days ago he entrusted a private bit of detective work to me, and I have now, I think, brought it to a finish. Why, however, may I ask, did you not reply to our advertisement?”
“I have seen none. This,” waving his hand around the bare apartment, “is hardly the place where the luxury of newspapers may be looked for. What was the advertisement, if you please?”
Mr. Wakeman explained. Explained, added, itemized, and diffused himself all over the argument, so to speak, while the faces of his audience grew more and more tense and disturbed. At length he finished:
“That is the way it stands, sir, you see. Your brother John consigned this child to my employer, through a mistake in the address. Simply that. Now an old gentleman and--feeble, I may say”-- Oh! if Uncle Joe could have heard him! “A feeble old man is not the one to be burdened with other folks’ relations. When I go back to town, now, I’ll be able to report that the missing uncle of this waif has been found at last, and that--Shall I say when you will call to reclaim her?”
Father and mother looked into each other’s eyes, one questioning the other, and reading in each but the same answer. Then said Joseph Smith, rightful uncle of our Josephine:
“Spare yourself the trouble, Mr. Wakeman. My brother’s child is our child, as dear and near. Alas, that I can offer her no better shelter! but it is a safe one and will be more comfortable. I shall soon get a situation; I _must_ soon get one. It is impossible that skill shall go forever unrecognized. In any case the little Josephine must come home to us. Eh, Kitty, girl?”
She answered him valiantly, seeing through his unusual boastfulness, who was commonly so modest of his own attainments, and smiling back upon him with the same undaunted courage he brought to their changed life. It was taking bread from her own children’s mouths to do what now she did, yet her step never faltered as she walked across to the little cupboard and took from some hidden nook, known only to herself, their last quarter dollar. This she gave to her husband, saying cheerily:
