The landlord left the house, and Mrs. Forbush sat down depressed.
“Julia,” she said to her daughter, “I wish you were old enough to advise me. I dislike to move, but I don't dare to engage to pay such a rent. Fifty dollars a month will amount to——”
“Six hundred dollars a year!” said Julia, who was good at figures.
“And that seems a great sum to us.”
“It would be little enough to Mrs. Pitkin,” said Julia, who felt that lady's prosperity unjust, while her poor, patient mother had to struggle so hard for a scanty livelihood.
“Oh, yes; Lavinia is rolling in wealth,” sighed Mrs. Forbush. “I can't understand how Uncle Oliver can bestow his favors on so selfish a woman.”
“Why don't you ask Philip's advice about keeping the house?” said Julia.
It must be explained that Philip and Julia were already excellent friends, and it may be said that each was mutually attracted by the other.
“Poor Philip has his own troubles,” said Mrs. Forbush. “He has lost his place through the malice and jealousy of Mr. and Mrs. Pitkin, for I am sure that Lavinia is the cause of his dismissal, and I don't know when he will be able to get another.”
“You won't send him away, mother, if he can't pay his board?”