“Oh, uncle!”
Her young companion was indignant. Already he felt that Florence had consented to accept him as a friend, and he was resolved to stand by her.
“I say, old man,” he bristled up, “don’t you go to insult her! She’s an angel!”
“No doubt you think so,” rejoined Mr. Linden, in a tone of sarcasm. “Upon my word, miss, I congratulate you on your elevated taste. So this is your reason for not being willing to marry your Cousin Curtis?”
“Indeed, uncle, you are mistaken. I never met this boy till to-night.”
“Don’t try to deceive me. Young man, did you open my secretary?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And robbed it into the bargain,” continued Linden, going to the secretary, and examining it. He did not, however, miss the will, but only the roll of bills. “Give me back the money you have taken from me, you young rascal!”
“I took nothing, sir.”
“It’s a lie! The money is gone, and no one else could have taken it.”