"If you find out where she is living, just let me know, Jane." "I will if she is willing to have me," answered Jane, independently. "Look here, Jane," said Curtis, angrily, "don't forget that you are not her servant, but my uncle's. It is to him you look for wages, not to Miss Florence." "I don't need to be told that, sir. I know that well enough." "Then you know that it is to him that your faithful services are due, not to Florence?" "I'm faithful to both, Mr. Waring." "You are aware that my uncle is justly displeased with my cousin?" "I know he's displeased, but I am sure he has no good reason to be." Curtis Waring bit his lips. The girl, servant as she was, seemed to be openly defying him. His imperious temper could ill brook this. "Take care!" he said, with a frown. "You seem to be lacking in respect to me. You don't appear to understand my position in this house." "Oh, yes, I do. I know you have schemed to get my poor young mistress out of the house, and have succeeded." "I have a great mind to discharge you, girl," said Curtis, with lowering brow. "I am not your servant, sir. You have nothing to do with me." "You will see whether I have or not. I will let you remain for a time, as it is your attachment to Miss Florence that has made you forget yourself. You will find that it is for your interest to treat me respectfully." A feeble step was heard at the door, and John Linden entered the breakfast-room. His face was sad, and he heaved a sigh as he glanced mechanically at the head of the table, where Florence usually sat. Curtis Waring sprang to his feet, and placing himself at his uncle's side, led him to his seat. "How do you feel this morning, uncle?" he asked, with feigned solicitude. "Ill, Curtis. I didn't sleep well last night." "I don't wonder, sir. You had much to try you."