What is the price of one?"
The lawyer looked at her in surprise.
"The value of a seat on the Stock Exchange?" he repeated.
"Yes; what does it cost to buy one?"
He hesitated, wondering why she should be interested in that subject.
Captain Elisha had not told him a word of the interview following
Pearson's last visit. He wondered, and then surmised a reason--Stephen,
of course. Steve's ambition was to be a broker, and his sister was,
doubtless, with sisterly solicitude and feminine ignorance of high
prices, planning for his future.
"Well," he replied, smiling, "they're pretty expensive, I'm afraid,
Caroline."
"Are they?" innocently.
"Yes. I think the last sale was at a figure between ninety and one
hundred thousand dollars."
"Indeed! Was father's seat worth as much as that?"
"Yes."
"But," with a sigh, "that, I suppose, went with the rest of the estate."
"Yes."
"Into the hands of the man who took it all?"
"Yes; the same hands," with a sly smile at his own private joke.
"Then how does it happen that my uncle has it in his possession?"
The lawyer smiled no more. He turned in his chair and gazed quickly and
keenly at the young lady beside him. And her gaze was just as keen as
his own.
"What did you say?" he asked.
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