"That is because you don't know how rich I am mother. I have a thousand dollars on deposit with my banker, or rather nine hundred and fifty, for I drew fifty dollars this morning."
Mrs. Mason surveyed her son with alarm. A terrible suspicion entered her mind. Was he becoming mentally unbalanced? Mark understood her thoughts and was amused.
"Don't think I am crazy, mother," he said. "The fact is, Mr. Rockwell made me a present of a thousand dollars this morning."
"Is this really true? You are not joking?"
"I was never more serious in my life. He told me that I had saved his life, and he didn't think he was overpaying me in giving me a thousand dollars."
"He was right, but I was afraid few men would have been so generous. So I really have a rich son."
"And I shall have a rich mother when she gets her share of her father's estate."
"Oh, by the way, there is a letter for you. Edith, get Mark's letter."
"I guess it's from a girl, Mark," said his sister, as she handed the messenger boy a dainty epistle in a square envelope.
Mark opened it and read it aloud.