"This is all my friend learned from Mr. Regy, who denounced her as ungrateful, unnatural as a mother, a pest to society. Her neighbors supposed, of course, he gave her up; but he never did, for a day. He went and berated her till he quite roused her into action; and finally she said she had been brought up on a farm, and knew how to make butter and cheese.
"'What good will that do you?' he asked her, with a sneer. 'Where are your cows, to make butter from?'"
"It was some time before she learned what a true friend he was; but two excellent milkers found their way to her barn, and, in time, pans and a churn. Then she complained that she was sure she never could sell her butter and pot-cheese and cried a whole day at the scolding he gave her. To make a long story short, he sold all her butter and cheese for her at the highest price, taking the basket on his own arm, and carrying it to the houses of the regular customers. A lady on Forty-Second Street told my friend that he brought butter there regularly every week for more than a year. She supposed it was from his own farm; and she has a pile of his receipts signed M. Regy. Once she remonstrated in person with him for his high prices, when he flew into such a rage that she never dared approach the subject again."
"Very, very strange," remarked Marion. "I have a friend who is extremely odd and uncouth in manner, but is always doing kindnesses for the poor. His name is Lambert. In many respects your description of Mr. Regy would answer for both."
"Do you refer to Mr. M. R. Lambert, a rich old bachelor? Why, I always thought him the most sarcastic, sour, crusty, old man in my acquaintance."
"Only in manner, doctor. He possesses the milk of human kindness in an uncommon degree. He is a second Mr. Regy. I am confident that any sum of money I would consent to ask him for in behalf of my protégés would not be refused; and all the time he would be grumbling that it was good money thrown away on a thankless class of vagrants."
"What is Mr. Lambert's full address," inquired the doctor, rising in an excited manner.
"M. R. Lambert are his initials. I have scores of his cards."
"Regy is, I believe, his middle name, and he uses it for a nom de plume. It can scarcely be credited that there would be two so similar in their eccentricities. I am almost sure of it."
"Then he must disguise himself: Mr. Lambert's hair is short, and only beginning to turn gray."