“Yes; we used to go to school together. What has become of him?”
“He is dead.”
“I am sorry to hear it. Any family?”
“One son, a boy of sixteen. That is why I am here.”
“Really, I don’t understand you.”
“He has left his son to you,” said the stranger.
“What!” exclaimed Nathan, in dismay.
“Having no other friends, for he has been away from home nearly all his life, he thought you would be willing to give the boy a home.”
Instantly there rose in the economical mind of Mr. Middleton an appalling array of expenses, including board, washing, clothes, books and so on, which would be likely to be incurred on behalf of a well-grown boy, and he actually shuddered.
“Stephen Temple had no right to expect such a thing of me,” he said. “The fact that we went to school together doesn’t give him any claim upon me. If the boy hasn’t got any relations willing to support him he should be sent to the poor-house.”