and his wife communicated tohim the unwelcome intelligence of Uncle Obed's arrival, and advised himas to the course she thought best to pursue.
"Poor old man!" said the colonel, with more consideration than his wifeor son possessed. "I suppose he felt solitary out there."
"That isn't our lookout," said Mrs. Ross, impatiently. "It's rightenough to say poor old man. He looks as poor as poverty. He'll be betteroff in Illinois."
"Perhaps you are right, but I wouldn't like to send him offempty-handed. I'll buy his ticket, and give him fifty dollars, so thathe need not suffer."
"It seems to me that is too much. Twenty dollars, or ten, would beliberal."
The cold-hearted woman seemed to forget the years during which her unclehad virtually supported her.
"No, Lucinda; I shall give him fifty."
"You should think of your son, Colonel Ross," said his wife. "Don'timpoverish him by your foolish generosity."
Colonel Ross shrugged his shoulders.
"Philip will have all the money that will be good for him," he said.
"Very well; as you please. Only get him off as soon as you can. It ismortifying to me to have such a looking old man here claimingrelationship to me."
"He is your uncle, Lucinda, and you must mention the plan to him."
"Very well."
It was a task which Mrs. Ross did not shrink from, for she had no fearof hurting the feelings of Uncle Obed, or, rather, she did not carewhether he chose to feel hurt or not.
Uncle Obed was called down to supper, and took his seat at the handsometea table, with its silver service. Colonel Ross, to his credit be itsaid, received his wife's uncle much more cordially than his own niecehad done, and caused Uncle Obed's face to beam with pleasure.
"Railly, Lucinda," said Uncle Obed, as he looked over the table, "youhave a very comfortable home, I declare."
"Yes, we try to have things comfortable around us," answered Mrs. Ross, coldly.
"Years ago, when you and your mother lived out in Illinoy, I didn'tthink you'd come to live in a house like this."
"Yes, people live in an outlandish way out there," said Mrs. Ross.
"But they have happy homes. When Mary lived, I enjoyed life, though theold farmhouse seemed rough and plain, compared with your handsome home. I'm glad to see my sister's child living so well, with all the comfortsthat money can buy."
The old man's tone was hearty, and there was a smile of genuine pleasureon his rugged face. He was forced to admit that his niece was not ascordial as he hoped, but, then, "Lucinda was always reserved andquiet-like," he said to himself, and so excused her.
It must be said for Colonel Ross that he knew comparatively little abouthis wife's early life, and didn't dream of the large obligations she wasunder to Uncle Obed. He was a rich man, and the consciousness of wealthled him to assume airs of importance, but he was not as cold orheartless as his wife, and would have insisted on his wife's treatingher uncle better had he known the past. Even as it was, he was much moregracious and affable than Mrs. Ross to the old man, whom he had neverseen before.
As for Philip, he was a second edition of his mother, and neveraddressed a word to Uncle Obed. When the latter spoke to him, heanswered in monosyllables.
"Nancy, you may leave the room. I'll call you if I want you."
This was what Mrs. Ross said to the servant, fearing that Uncle Obedmight refer to her early poverty, and that the girl might talk about itin the neighborhood.
Though Colonel Ross made conversation easy for him, Uncle Obed could nothelp feeling the coldness of his niece.
"Lucindy might treat me better," he thought, "after what I did for herin her early days. But I see how it is; she's ashamed of them, and Iwon't say anything to make her feel bad. I see I must look elsewhere fora home. Lucindy don't want me here, and I shouldn't feel at home myself. I wish Philip was more like that Harry Gilbert, who showed me the wayhere."
Supper was over, and Philip took up his hat to go out.
"Philip," said his father, "you forget that your uncle is here. Youshould stay to keep him company."
"I've got an engagement," said Philip, alarmed at the suggestion.
"Can't you put it off?"
"Let the boy keep his engagement," said Uncle Obed. "I like to see youngpeople particular about keeping their appointments."
"Your uncle may like to walk out with you, and see something of thevillage."
Philip looked dismayed at the prospect of being seen in the company ofthe rather shabby old man, who claimed to be his great-uncle.
"No, no," said Uncle Obed. "I can find the way round by myself. A manthat's used to the Western prairies doesn't get lost easily."
Philip breathed a sigh of relief. For the first time he began to thinkthat Uncle Obed had some sensible ideas.
Uncle Obed took his hat and cane, and walked out slowly, making his wayalong the principal street.
"I wish I could see that boy Harry Gilbert," he thought to himself – fora new plan had occurred to him. "Why, bless me, there he is now," hesaid, as our hero turned the next corner.
"Good-evening, sir," said Harry, cheerfully.
"Good-evening, Harry. You're just the one I was wanting to see. I've gotsomething to say to you."
What Uncle Obed had to say was of importance, but must be deferred tothe next chapter.
CHAPTER VIII
UNCLE OBED MAKES A PROPOSAL
Harry waited to hear what the old man had to say.
"How do you and my grandnephew hitch horses?" asked Uncle Obed.
"You mean how do we get along together?" asked Harry.
"Yes."
"Well, we are not bosom friends. Philip thinks I am a poor, working boy, and looks down on me accordingly."
"It don't do you a mite of harm to work. I had to work when I was a boy, and I've done my share of work since I got to be a man."
"I like to work," said Harry. "I only wish I had the chance."
"So there is no love lost between you and Philip?"
"No; he doesn't suit me any better than I suit him. He's got too highnotions for me."
"He's like his mother," said Uncle Obed. "I reckon she and Philip ain'tvery glad to see me. It's different with the colonel. He's a nice man, but he seems to be under his wife's thumb."
Harry did not reply. It was only what he expected, from what he knew of
Mrs. Ross and her son.
"I hope it won't be unpleasant for you," said he, in a tone ofsympathy.
"It's
