FREDERIC VERNON'S PERPLEXITY.

There are few boys to whom the prospect of visiting Europe would not possess a charm. Robert was delighted by Mrs. Vernon's announcement, and readily agreed to assist her in the necessary preparations. Nothing occurred to interfere with their plans. They passed a single day in New York, where Mrs. Vernon purchased a large letter of credit, and Saturday saw their departure on a Cunard steamer bound for Liverpool.

It was on this very day that Frederic Vernon, again accompanied by his friend, Dr. Remington, called at the house on Prairie Avenue. The doctor recommended a second interview, in order that he might more plausibly give a certificate of insanity. No hint of Mrs. Vernon's projected trip had reached her treacherous nephew. A single servant had been placed in charge by Mrs. Vernon to care for the house, and guard against the intrusion of burglars.

"I suppose my aunt is at home, Martha," said Frederic blithely.

"No, Mr. Frederic, she has gone away."

"You mean she has gone into the city. When will she return?"

"I don't know."

"Why don't you know?"

"She has gone on a journey."

"Indeed!" said Remington, much disappointed. "Where has she gone?"

"She said she might go to California."

Martha had been instructed to say this, and did not know but it was true.

"Well, well! That is strange!" ejaculated Remington.

"What do you think of it, doctor?"

"It bears out our theory," responded the doctor briefly.

"It is very inconvenient," Vernon continued. "When did Mrs. Vernon start?" he inquired, turning to the girl.

"On Wednesday morning."

Remington's countenance fell.

"I suppose it will be of no use to remain longer, then," he said, as he descended the steps. "Is there no one of whom you can obtain information, Vernon?"

"My aunt has a man of business who looks after her investments. He will probably know."

"Let us go there, then."

Mr. Farley's office was on Dearborn Street. Frederic Vernon went there at once. Mr. Farley was a lawyer as well as a man of business, and Frederic had to wait half an hour while he was occupied with a client.

"Well, Mr. Vernon, what can I do for you?" he asked coldly, for the young man was not a favorite of his.

"I just called upon my aunt, and learned that she had departed on a journey."

"Precisely so."

"The servant thought she had gone to California. Is that correct?"

"Did she not write to inform you of her destination?"

"No, sir, she was probably too hurried. Of course you know where she is."

"Even if I did know I should not be at liberty to tell you. If your aunt has not informed you, she probably has her reasons."

Vernon flushed, and he found it hard to control his anger.

"Then you refuse to tell me?"

"I do not feel called upon to tell. Have you any special business with your aunt? If so, I will mention it in any letter I may have occasion to write."

"It seems to me this is a very foolish mystery."

"It is not for me, or for you, to comment upon or to criticise your aunt's plans," said the lawyer pointedly.

"Has Robert Frost, whom she employs as secretary, gone with her?"

"Possibly. She did not mention him in her last interview with me."

"Will you write me when you hear from her?"

"If she authorizes it."

"I will leave you my address."

There seemed to be nothing more to say, and Vernon left the office baffled and perplexed. He communicated what he had heard to Dr. Remington, whom he had not thought it advisable to take with him to Mr. Farley's office.

"What do you make of it, Remington?" he inquired.

"I don't know. Do you think Mrs. Vernon got any inkling of your scheme to have her adjudged insane?"

"How could she?"

"True. We have been very careful not to discuss the matter within the hearing of anyone."

"What can we do?"

"We must wait. You must find out where your aunt is before you can take any steps."

"Suppose she has gone to California?"

"We can follow her."

There was, however, one serious impediment in the way of going to California. Vernon used up his allowance as fast as he received it, and was even a little in debt. Again, California was a large place, and though probably his aunt might be in San Francisco, it was by no means certain. The money, however, was the chief consideration.

"How are you fixed financially, Remington?" asked Vernon.

"Why do you ask?"

"If you could lend me five hundred dollars we might start to-morrow."

"Where do you think I could raise five hundred dollars?" asked Remington coolly.

"I thought you might have it--in a savings bank."

"I wish I had, but even then I should consider it safer there than in your hands."

"I hope you don't doubt my honesty," said Vernon quickly.

"Well, I haven't the money, so there is no occasion to say more on the subject."

Vernon looked despondent.

"What do you advise me to do?" he asked.

"When does your next allowance come due?"

"On the first of next month."

"Three weeks hence?"

"Yes."

"Then you will have to wait till that time, unless you find some obliging friend who has more money than I."

"It's very vexatious."

"It may be for our advantage. Remember, it is not at all certain that your aunt is in California. You may get some light on the subject within a short time. Next week suppose you call in Prairie Avenue again. The servant may have heard something."

"True," responded Vernon, somewhat encouraged.

In a few days he called again, but Martha had heard nothing.

"It is hardly time yet," said Remington. "Next week you may have better luck. If your aunt is in California there would be time for her to get settled and write to you."

The next week Vernon ascended the steps of his aunt's house with a degree of confidence.

"I think I shall get some information this time," he said.

"Have you had a letter from my aunt yet?" he asked.

"No, Mr. Frederic."

His countenance fell.

"But I have received a note from Mr. Farley."

"What did he say?" asked Vernon eagerly.

"He said that he had had a telegram from my mistress and she was well."

"Did he say where she was?"

"No, sir."

"And you have no idea?"

"No, Mr. Frederic. I expect she is in California, as I told you."

"But why should she telegraph from California?"

This question was asked of his companion.

"I give it up," said Remington. "You might call on Farley again."

"I will."

The visit, however, yielded no satisfaction. The lawyer admitted that he had received a telegram. He positively refused to account for its being a telegram, and not a letter.

"But," said Vernon, "do you feel justified in keeping me ignorant of the whereabouts of my near relative?"

"Yes, since she has not thought it necessary to inform you."

"By the way, Mr. Farley," asked Vernon, after a pause, "can you kindly advance me a part of my next month's allowance?"

"It will all be payable within a week."

"True, but I have occasion for a little money. Fifty dollars will do."

"You must excuse me, Mr. Vernon."

As Frederic Vernon's available funds were reduced to twenty-five cents, this refusal was embarrassing. However, he succeeded in borrowing fifty dollars during the day from a broker who knew his circumstances, at five per cent. a month, giving the broker an order on Mr. Farley dated a week later.

The same evening found him in the billiard room of the Palmer House, playing a game of billiards with Remington.

Remington took up a copy of the New York Herald, and glanced over the columns in a desultory way. Something caught his eye, and he exclaimed in an excited tone, "Vernon, the mystery is solved. Your aunt is at the Charing Cross Hotel in London."

"You don't mean it?" ejaculated Vernon.

"See for yourself. Mrs. Ralph Vernon, Chicago; Robert Frost, Chicago."

Frederic Vernon gazed at his friend in stupefaction.

"I can't believe it," he muttered feebly.