The boys did not take a holiday in honor of Rad's return, but went steadily on with their tasks. Lord Betterson himself seemed suddenly to have changed his views of things, for he now offered to assist the boys in repairing the fences, for which they had been cutting poles in the woods.
Rad worked a little, but, seeing how things were going, sulked a good deal more. He tried to be very gallant toward Vinnie, but her quiet dignity of manner was proof against all his pleasantries. Even Cecie and Lill could not somehow enjoy his jests as they used to; and Caroline—there was no disguising the fact—had ceased to view his faults through the golden haze of a sentimental fancy.
So Radcliff found himself out of place, unappreciated; and discontent filled his soul. At length an event occurred which blew his smouldering restlessness into a flame.
The "Philadelphia partners" were heard from.
Rufe and Wad, who had been over to the Mills one day, completing their arrangements with the pump-maker for boring the logs of their aqueduct, brought home from the mail one of those envelopes whose post-mark and superscription always gladdened the eyes of the Bettersons.
It was from Philadelphia, and it contained a draft for two hundred and fifty dollars.
One third of this sum was for Radcliff's "benefit."
It would have been wise, perhaps, to keep from him the knowledge of this fact; but it would have been impossible.
"A pittance, a mere pittance," said Lord, holding the precious bit of paper up to the light. "Uncle George could just as well have made it a thousand, without feeling it. However, small favors gratefully received." And he placed the draft in his pocket-book with calm satisfaction.
Joy overflowed the family; Caroline began to build fresh castles in the air; and Vinnie heard Radcliff say to the boys,—