There was a moment of embarrassing silence after the entrance of Gilbert. Mrs. Briggs, as she afterwards expressed it, was paralyzed with astonishment at the effrontery of the boy. Randolph waited with curiosity to hear what his parents would say, while Mr. Briggs was silent merely because he was taken by surprise. He was the first to speak, and his tone, though a little embarrassed, was yet not without kindness.

“Good-evening, Gilbert,” he said. “Won’t you sit down and have some dinner?”

Mrs. Briggs looked daggers at her husband. How could he dream of extending such an invitation to Gilbert, under the circumstances.

“No, thank you,” said Gilbert, “I have already dined.”

“Then take a seat. We shall soon be through dinner.”

“This is an unusual time to call,” said Mrs. Briggs frigidly, breaking silence for the first time.

“What difference does it make?” interposed her husband. “Gilbert is not a stranger, to stand on ceremony.”

“So it appears,” returned his wife, in the same unpleasant tone.

“I ought to apologize for calling during your dinner-hour,” said Gilbert, “but I wished particularly to consult you about my affairs.”

Of course this was addressed to Mr. Briggs. Mrs. Briggs was perhaps the last person in the range of his acquaintance whom our hero would have cared to consult.

“Anything new with you?” asked his guardian, in a tone of slight embarrassment.

“Yes,” answered Gilbert, frankly; “I am in trouble.”

Mrs. Briggs glanced meaningly at Randolph, as if to say, “Now it’s coming.”

“You would perhaps wish to speak to me alone,” said Mr. Briggs.

“Oh, if you have any secrets, Randolph and I can withdraw,” said Mrs. Briggs, with unnecessary offence. She would have been deeply disappointed to be excluded from the conference between Gilbert and her husband. Our hero, however, relieved her of her apprehensions.

“Though I am in trouble,” he said, “I have nothing to be ashamed of, and am perfectly willing to speak before all of you.”

Mr. Briggs here glanced at his wife with a relieved air. Gilbert spoke as if confident of his own innocence. It produced no such effect on Mrs. Briggs.

“He’s going to brazen it out,” she said to herself.

“Go on, then,” said Mr. Briggs, kindly. “What is your trouble?”

“I have been charged with theft, and dismissed from my situation,” said Gilbert, candidly.

“Do you call that nothing to be ashamed of?” demanded Mrs. Briggs, sharply.

Gilbert met her hostile gaze with unflinching calmness.

“No,” he said, “it is nothing for me to be ashamed of, for the charge is false.”

“What evidence have we of that except your own assertion?” demanded Mrs. Briggs.

“That is enough for me,” said Mr. Briggs.

“It is not enough for me,” said his wife.

“I will give you an account of the affair so far as I understand it,” said Gilbert. “Fortunately, I have a witness who is able to confirm my words.”

Gilbert’s statement need not be repeated, as the facts are already known to us.

“So you expect us to believe the testimony of this boot-black.” said Mrs. Briggs, scornfully,—“a highly respectable witness indeed.”

“I suppose a boot-black may speak the truth, madam,” said Gilbert.

“I dare say he would say whatever he was instructed to say for twenty-five cents, perhaps less.”

“You are determined to believe me guilty, Mrs. Briggs,” said Gilbert, quietly, betraying no anger; “I expected it, for I knew you are prejudiced against me.”

“I certainly don’t believe the very extraordinary story you have told us,” retorted the lady. “You charge a book-keeper, of high standing, with entering into a conspiracy against you. It is absurd upon its face.”

“How do you know the book-keeper is of high standing?” asked Mr. Briggs.

“Because Mr. Sands would not have any other.”

“Gilbert has the same guaranty of high standing,” said her husband, smiling. “He has been employed by Mr. Sands.”

“That is different. He took him upon your recommendation.”

“Would I be likely to recommend any boy not of high standing?”

“Your levity seems to be ill-timed, Mr. Briggs,” said his wife, coldly.

“I thought it my duty to come to you and tell you at once,” said Gilbert.

“Knowing that you could not conceal it from us, for we knew it already,” said Mrs. Briggs, who could not forbear another sneer.

“You knew it already!” exclaimed Gilbert, with unmistakable astonishment “Has Mr. Moore already sent you word of it?”

“No; Randolph happened to call at the office for you just after your discharge. He brought us the news.”

“I am much obliged to Randolph for his call,” said Gilbert; “I am only sorry that it occurred at such an unfortunate time.”

“It was unfortunate for you, no doubt,” said Mrs. Briggs.

“When I return there, I hope you will call again,” said our hero, turning to Randolph.

Mrs. Briggs was exasperated by our hero’s coolness.

“Have you the effrontery to fancy you will be taken back after such a crime?” she demanded.

“I have committed no crime, Mrs. Briggs. The charge is false, as I shall prove to Mr. Sands when he returns from Washington. He is a just man, and understands that the book-keeper is prejudiced against me.”

“When will Mr. Sands return?” asked Mr. Briggs.

“In a few days. He has gone to the sick-bed of his brother. I shall wait till he returns before taking any steps to clear myself.”

“It is probably your best course. I hope all will come out right.”

“I think it will,” said Gilbert. “Now, let me bid you good-evening.”

“Why not stay the evening?” said Mr. Briggs, in a friendly tone.

“Thank you very much, but I will wait till I am cleared of this charge. I came up to-night because I wanted you to know about it.”

“I will accompany you to the door,” said Mr. Briggs.

When they were in the hall, he said, “Next Wednesday Randolph is to have a birthday party. I shall be glad to see you here.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Gilbert, gratefully. “I thank you all the more, because it shows that you believe in my innocence. But all the same, I would rather not accept. I shall still be resting under this false charge, and Mrs. Briggs evidently believes me guilty.”

“Women are apt to be prejudiced,” said Mr. Briggs, apologetically.

“Still the prejudice would make it unpleasant for me to come.”

“Perhaps you are right, Gilbert. At any rate, you are manly and independent, and I respect you for it. Come round to my office if anything turns up in which you need my advice.”

“Thank you, sir.”

When Mr. Briggs returned to the dining-room, his wife accosted him.

“Well, you had a secret conference with your promising protegÉ,” she said.

“Not secret. I am willing to tell you all that passed between us.”

“Well?”

“I invited Gilbert to attend Randolph’s party next Wednesday.”

“Good heavens! Mr. Briggs,” exclaimed the lady, angrily, “this is a little too much. Of course the boy snapped at it. He has more effrontery than any boy I ever knew.”

“He declined the invitation,” said Mr. Briggs. “He said that while resting under this charge he was unwilling to be present on such an occasion.”

“Then he has more decency than I gave him credit for,” said Mrs. Briggs, relieved. “Knowing his guilt, he would find it embarrassing.”

“Permit me to differ with you, Mrs. Briggs. One thing more. I have only given Gilbert a verbal invitation. Let me request you to send him a personal invitation with the rest.”

“What necessity is there for that? Has he not declined to come?”

“He must receive a formal invitation, nevertheless,” said her husband, sternly, “or there shall be no party.”

“Your father is so infatuated with that boy,” said Mrs. Briggs, after her husband had left the room.

But she sent the invitation. She knew by her husband’s tone that he was fully in earnest. She was still a little afraid that Gilbert would accept, and was only quite freed from apprehension when she received a note from him regretting that he could not be present.