Mrs. Mordaunt had an experience similar to Dan's. Her old acquaintances, who, during her poverty never seemed to recognize her when they met, gradually awoke to the consciousness of her continued existence, and left cards. She received them politely, but rated their professions of friendship at their true value. They had not been "friends in need," and she could not count them "friends indeed."
CHAPTER XLII. CONCLUSION.
Six years rolled by, bringing with them many changes. The little family on Madison avenue kept together. Mrs. Vernon was never happier than now. She had a hearty love for young people, and enjoyed the growth and development of her niece Althea, and Dan, whom she called her nephew and loved no less.
Dan is now a young man. He completed his preparation for college, and graduated with high honors. He is no less frank, handsome, and self-reliant than when as a boy he sold papers in front of the Astor House for his mother's support. He looks forward to a business life, and has accepted an invitation to go abroad to buy goods in London and Paris for his old firm. He was, in fact, preparing to go when a mysterious letter was put in his hands. It ran thus:
"Mr. Daniel Mordaunt:—I shall take it as a great favor if you will come to the St. Nicholas Hotel this evening, and inquire for me. I am sick, or I would not trouble you. Do not fail. I have to speak to you on a matter of great importance.
"John Davis."
"John Davis!" repeated Dan. "I don't know of any one of that name. Do you, mother?"
"I cannot think of any one," said Mrs. Mordaunt. "I hope you won't go, Dan," she added, anxiously; "it may be a trap laid by a wicked and designing man."