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Updated: May 20, 2025
"There must be some mistake," said the visitor. "I saw Mr. Carter on Broadway, near Twentieth Street, day before yesterday." "Quite a mistake, I assure you, Mrs. Vangriff," said Mrs. Pitkin, smiling. "It was some other person. You were deceived by a fancied resemblance." "It is you who are wrong, Mrs. Pitkin," said Mrs. Vangriff, positively. "I am somewhat acquainted with Mr.
Vangriff, and sat on thorns till that lady saw fit to take leave. Then she turned to Alonzo and said, in a hollow voice: "Lonny, you heard what that woman said?" "You bet!" "Do you think Uncle Oliver has gone and got married again?" she asked, in a hollow voice. "I shouldn't wonder a mite, ma," was the not consolitary reply. "If so, what will become of us?
Oliver Carter is your uncle, I believe?" said the visitor. "Yes." "I met him on Broadway the other day. He was looking very well." "It must have been a fortnight since, then. Uncle Oliver is in Florida." "In Florida!" repeated Mrs. Vangriff, in surprise. "When did he go?" "When was it, Lonny?" asked Mrs. Pitkin, appealing to her son. "It will be two weeks next Thursday."
Carter, who had by this time found that his protege was thoroughly well qualified for such work. So nearly a week passed. It so chanced that though Uncle Oliver had now been in New York a considerable time, not one of the Pitkins had met him or had reason to suspect that he was nearer than Florida. One day, however, among Mrs. Pitkin's callers was Mrs. Vangriff, a fashionable acquaintance. "Mr.
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