Ralph Raymond's Heir

"Of course. My guardian told me that I was to go on a short journey, and would return to my old school again."

"He did not tell me that," said his companion, significantly.

"What did he tell you, Mr. Cromwell?" asked Robert, beginning to feel nervous and anxious, for he was very anxious of returning to his old school, where he had many valued friends.

"He can explain that best himself," said Cromwell, in reply. "Here is a letter which he told me to hand you when the time came that rendered it necessary."

He drew forth, as he spoke, a letter from the inner pocket of his coat, addressed to

Master Robert Raymond

Robert opened it hastily, and read in the merchant's handwriting, the following:

"Robert:—Circumstances have led me to decide that it would be best for you to remain at the West for a time, instead of returning to your former school, as you doubtless desire. It is not necessary for me to detail the reasons which have led me to this resolution. As your guardian, I must use my best discretion and judgment, and it is not for you to question either. Mr. Cromwell will look after your welfare, and make all necessary arrangements for you, such as finding a school for you to attend in the town where he decides to establish himself. Of course, you will board at the same place with him, and be under his charge. I expect you to be obedient to him in all things. Your guardian,

    "Paul Morton."

Robert Raymond read this letter with mingled disappointment and indignation. He felt that he had been treated very unfairly and that he had been entrapped into this Western journey under false pretences.

He looked up after he had finished reading the letter, saying:

"Mr. Morton has not treated me right."

"Why hasn't he?"

"He ought to have told me all this before we started."

"If he had, you would have made a fuss, and he wished to avoid this."

"I think it was mean and unfair," said Robert, hotly.

"Perhaps you had better write and tell him so," said James Cromwell, sneering.

"I shall write to him," said Robert, very firmly. "My father never would have sanctioned such an arrangement as this. Besides, I don't believe there is any good school out here."

"It is just possible that there may be somebody in Madison who may know enough to teach you," said Cromwell, with an unpleasant sneer.

Robert Raymond looked at him intently. He felt instinctively that he should obtain no sympathy in his complaints, and he became silent. He went back to the hotel and wrote a letter to Mr. Morton, in which he set forth respectfully his objections to remaining at the West. The letter reached its destination, but his guardian did not see fit to answer it.

CHAPTER XIV.

CLARA MANTON

James Cromwell did not remain at the Madison Hotel, but secured board for himself and Robert at a private house in the village, where the only other boarders were a gentleman and his daughter. The latter was about nineteen, passably pretty, and very fond of attention. Her name was Clara Manton. Her father was in ill-health, and for a year or two had been out of business. He was possessed of about fifteen thousand dollars, well invested, and the income of this sum in a place like Madison, yielded him and his daughter a very comfortable support.

When Clara Manton heard that they were to have two fellow-boarders, and that one of them was a young man, she determined, as she expressed it to her friend, Louisa Bates, "to set her cap for him."

"Would you marry him?" inquired Louisa, of her friend.

"As to that, I can't tell. I haven't seen him yet. He may be very disagreeable for all I know. But even if he is, I am going to flatter him up, and make him fall in love with me. Then, when he offers himself, I can take his case into consideration."

"Perhaps you'll fall in love yourself, Clara," suggested her friend.

"I am not very susceptible. I wouldn't marry a masculine angel, unless he had some money. I must find out how Mr. Cromwell stands in that way, first."

When James Cromwell first made his appearance at Mrs. Shelby's table, Clara Manton, who sat opposite, fixed her black eyes upon his face, and examined him attentively.

As James Cromwell's personal appearance has previously been described, it will readily be believed that Clara was not fascinated with the retreating forehead, ferret-like eyes, mottled complexion and insignificant features.

"He's horrid ugly!" she said to herself. "I don't think I ever saw a homelier man. The boy is much better looking. I wish he were the young man. There'd be some satisfaction in exercising my fascinations upon him. However, beauty is only skin deep, and if Mr. Cromwell has got money, I don't know that I would object to marrying him. What I want is a nice house and an easy life."

It will be seen that Clara Manton was not one of the romantic girls of which heroines are usually made. In truth, she was incapable of any love, except self-love, and though she could counterfeit sentiment, she had none of the quality. She was very practical and calculating, and did not mean to surrender her freedom, unless she could obtain the substantial advantages which she desired.

In spite, therefore, of James Cromwell's personal deficiencies, she determined to exercise her arts upon him.

On sitting down to the table she was introduced by Mrs. Shelby.

"How do you like Madison, Mr. Cromwell?" she said, with great suavity.

"Pretty well, thank you," said Cromwell, rather awkwardly, for he always felt uncomfortable in the society of ladies, particularly if they were young, or in any way pretty or attractive. It might have been a vague idea of his own personal disadvantages that produced this feeling, but it was partly because he had had very limited opportunities of becoming acquainted or associating with the opposite sex.

"I am glad you like us well enough to establish yourself here," said the young lady, graciously. "I hear you have gone into business in the village, so that we may hope to have you as a permanent accession to our village society."

"Thank you, Miss Manton," said James Cromwell, trying to think of something more to say, but not succeeding.

"Do you go back to the store in the evening?" asked the young lady, as he rose from the table.

"Yes, I think so. I am expected to keep open in the evening."

"But you have an assistant?"

"Yes."

"Then I advise you not to make yourself a slave to business. We shall hope for the pleasure of your company occasionally in the evening."

James Cromwell felt flattered, and looking full in the young lady's face, he thought to himself, "She is very pretty, and she seems to show me a great deal of politeness."

"Thank you, Miss Manton, for your kind invitation. I will accept it very soon—as soon as I think I can be spared from my business."

"You will be quite welcome," said Clara, graciously.

The young man might not have felt quite so well pleased, if he could have read what was passing in Clara's mind.

"He is not only ugly," she said to herself, "but an awkward boor. I don't believe he ever spoke to a lady before. However, he may be worth catching. At any rate, it will give me a little amusement to angle for him, and I will see if I can't make an impression."

"Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise." So runs an old proverb. This was illustrated in the case of James Cromwell, who, ignorant of the real opinion entertained of him by Miss Manton, began, after a while, to conceive the delusive thought that she had taken a fancy to him. But we are anticipating.

Three evenings later, when supper was concluded, James Cromwell made no movement to go back to the store. This was quickly observed by Clara, who said, with a smile: