"Not till I'm rich and famous," answered Andy.
"H'm! Very well. What have I got to sign?"
"That's it," said Andy, with eager hand drawing a written sheet from his pocket.
Miss Lavinia opened the document, read it through, went to the table, took a fountain pen from her reticule, signed the paper, returned it to Andy.
"I'm dreaming! it's a plot of some kind!" murmured Andy, lost in wonderment.
Miss Lavinia took out her pocket-book.
"Andy Wildwood," she said, her harsh features as mask-like as ever, "here are ten dollars. It is the last cent I will ever give you. When you leave here you sever all ties between us. I have only one stipulation to make. You will not disgrace me by having anything to do with anybody in Fairview."
"That's all right," said Andy. "I'll agree, except that I've got to write to Mr. Graham on business."
"What business?"
Andy explained in full. If he had been more versed in the wiles of the world, less astonished at his aunt's strange compliance with his dearest wishes, he would have noticed a keen suspiciousness in the glance with which she continually regarded him.