THERE was another tea-table in Plympton where Tom’s affairs were discussed the same afternoon. As the reader will conjecture, I refer to that of Lawyer Davenport.

“Was Thomas Temple here this afternoon?” he asked when they were all seated.

“Yes,” said Imogene promptly.

“Imogene is setting her cap for him,” said James.

“You should not tease your sister, James,” said his mother. “It is perfectly natural that Tom should be polite to your sister. He is in her own social rank, and will possess a fine fortune. What do you say, Mr. Davenport?”

“That the intimacy had better cease,” said the lawyer.

“Really, I can’t understand your reasons,” said Mrs. Davenport.

“What is the matter with Tom?” demanded Imogene.

“I have heard some news about him this afternoon,” said the lawyer, “which influences me in what I have said.”

“We shouldn’t be too hard upon his boyish scrapes,” said Mrs. Davenport charitably. “Boys will be boys.”

“It isn’t any boyish scrape.”

“What is it, then?”

“Much worse than that. He has lost his entire fortune!”

“You don’t mean it!” ejaculated his wife.

“It can’t be true, papa,” said Imogene.

“It is perfectly true. I had it from Mr. Middleton, and he received the information this very day from Mr. Sharp, the boy’s guardian.”

“But how could he lose it?” asked James.

“By bad investments and the failure of large creditors.”

“Has he lost everything?”

“All but a few hundred dollars.”

“Of course, that alters the case very much,” said Mrs. Davenport. “He is a poor boy now.”

“To be sure. He will have to work for a living. Probably he will become a common mechanic.”

“Horrible!” exclaimed Imogene, with a shudder.

“Of course, he is no fit companion for our children now.”

“Certainly not,” said Mrs. Davenport decidedly.

“I am not sorry,” said James. “I never liked him. I always thought him low.”

“I hope, Imogene,” said her mother, “you won’t think of encouraging his visits now,” said her mother. “He is far below you in the social scale.”

“I understand that well enough, mother. I should not be willing to associate with a working boy.”

“Right, my love! I see that you cherish sentiments worthy of my daughter. There is nothing like having a proper sense of your own dignity.”

“You won’t have to complain of me,” said Imogene, tossing her head.

“Nor of me,” said James. “I’ll keep him at a distance, never fear.”

“If he persists in coming here, you must tell him decidedly that he is not wanted,” said Mrs. Davenport.

“There will be no difficulty,” said the lawyer. “He is to leave town at once, and probably Mr. Sharp will find him a place.”

“I am glad of that.”

“I am not,” said James. “I should like to see him working at some trade here in town, so that I could snub him and so pay him off for his independent airs.”

The family had just risen from the supper-table when Tom was ushered into the room by the servant. The four who had been discussing him and his affairs looked at each other in a significant manner. Tom was sharp enough to see that the change in his fortunes was known, and he smiled to himself.

“Good-evening, Thomas,” said the lawyer, in a reserved tone. “Do you bring any message from Mr. Middleton?”

“No, I don’t,” said Tom independently. “I board with Mr. Middleton. I don’t carry messages for him.”

“It appears to me that you exhibit an unbecoming pride,” said the village magnate.

“Do I?” cried Tom. “I was only stating a fact, which you didn’t appear to understand. I came on my own business. You may know that I am to leave Plympton to-morrow.”

“Have you got a place yet?” asked James with a sneer.

“What kind of a place?”

“I had an idea that you were going to learn a trade.”

“Did you? Where did you get the idea from?”

“You’ve lost your money, haven’t you?”

“So they say.”

“And have got to earn your living.”

“You appear to know all about my affairs. Probably you’re right. Perhaps you could assist me by some suggestion.”

“If we hadn’t a stable-boy already, I would ask father to take you.”

“Thank you,” said Tom quietly. “It’s a good thing to have friends when you’re hard up, but I don’t think I’ll trouble you. There is one favor you can do me, however.”

“If James can conscientiously do you a favor,” said the lawyer guardedly, “I shall not object to his doing it.”

“Oh, it won’t hurt his conscience,” said Tom laughing. “At any rate it ought not.”

“I think the tone you employ is hardly appropriate, as you are going to ask a favor.”

“What is it?” asked James, who felt rather curious, and had no idea what Tom meant. If he had he would not have felt so complacent.

“Why,” said Tom, “I feel a little delicate, but as I am leaving Plympton, and am likely to need the money, I should like to have James pay me the money I have lent him at different times.”

James flushed and looked uncomfortable. His father asked hastily:

“James, have you borrowed money of Thomas?”

“I borrowed a trifle on two or three occasions,” James admitted reluctantly.

“A trifle! How much?”

“Here is the statement,” said Tom. “It amounts to fifteen dollars and a half altogether.”

“It can’t be!” said James.

“You may look over the items,” said Tom.

“Give me the paper,” said the lawyer.

“James, is this correct?” he demanded rather sternly.

“I am almost sure it isn’t,” said James. “I am sure he has put down more than I borrowed.”

“You know that is false, James Davenport,” said Tom contemptuously.

“I didn’t think you were so mean as to get everything down,” said James.

“I did it because I always keep an account of the money I spend,” said Tom; “but I will tell you frankly I should never have asked you to repay it, if you had not chosen to sneer at my loss of fortune.”

“Did you expect my son to treat you just the same as when you were rich?” asked Mr. Davenport.

“No, for I knew him too well,” said Tom significantly.

“He has acted in a manner entirely proper,” said Mrs. Davenport with emphasis, “and I venture to say that my daughter, Imogene, agrees with me.”

“I do, ma,” said Imogene.

“Right, my daughter,” said her mother approvingly.

Tom looked at Imogene attentively, but made no comment. He expressed no surprise, for he felt none.

“If you were about to remain in Plympton,” said Mrs. Davenport, “I should feel compelled to say that my son and daughter could no longer associate with you on terms of equality.”

“It is fortunate that I am going then,” said Tom. “I really don’t think I could live in Plympton if I were deprived of their society.”

“You might see us occasionally if you became our stable-boy,” said James.

“Thank you,” said Tom, “but I must decline. I am afraid you would want to borrow all my wages.”

“You are impertinent,” said James angrily.

“So are you,” said Tom with spirit.

“Hush, James!” said his father. “Such discussion is unseemly. In regard to these sums you have lent my son, Thomas,” he proceeded, “I should be justified in refusing to repay them, since they were lent to a minor, who, in the eyes of the law, has no right to contract debts.”

“Do as you like,” said Tom. “If you are unwilling to pay it, James may regard it as a present from me.”

“I should not wish my son to remain under such an obligation, and I am quite aware that your present circumstances will not justify you in making so large a present, or indeed any at all. I therefore repay you.”

Tom received the bank-notes and put them in his pocket-book.

“Thank you,” he said, “both for the money and the consideration for my poverty. I won’t occupy any more of your time, but will bid you all good-by. I should be glad to have you send good-by to Mary Somers when you write.”

“I’ll do it,” said James. “By the way, you would be a good match for her. She hasn’t got a cent, and can’t expect anything better than being a mechanic’s wife.”

“Would you be willing to accept a mechanic for a cousin?” asked Tom, smiling.

“We shouldn’t need to be intimate.”

“Very true. That’s a comfort. But we won’t look too far ahead. Good-by.”

And Tom withdrew.

“What a ridiculous pride that boy has,” said Mrs. Davenport.

“He’s very impudent,” said James.

“I’m glad he’s gone,” said Imogene.

“Very probably you will never meet again,” said her father; “if you do, you can be very distant.”

Poor Tom! A few hours had made a great difference in the demeanor of the Davenports toward him. Such is life!