"No. He died about a year since, of a fever."

"And—and Eleanor? What of her?"

"For six months past she has been a tenant of yours."

"A tenant of mine!" exclaimed the miser.

"It is even so. She occupies a second-story room in the tenement-house in——Street."

[47]

"And I have met her face to face?"

"I dare say you have. Your tenants are pretty sure to have that pleasure once a month. But doesn't it seem strange that Eleanor Gray, the beautiful daughter of your Havana employer, should after these twenty years turn up in Boston the tenant of her father's book-keeper?"

"Ha! ha!" chuckled the miser, hoarsely, "she isn't so much better off than if she had married old Peter."

"As to being better off," said Randall, "I presume she is better off, though she can't call a hundred dollars her own, than if she were installed mistress of y. . . Read More