GOOD ADVICE.
"GOOD afternoon, Mrs. Stuart. Fine day! Well—and how's the world getting along with you?" asked Mrs. Mason.
Mrs. Stuart looked as if the world were not getting along with her at all. She gave Mrs. Mason scant welcome.
"My fire's took to smoking like mad; smoked me out, if I didn't want to be turned into a dried herring," said Mrs. Mason. "So I thought I'd just look in here for an hour, and ask you for a neighbourly cup of tea."
Mrs. Stuart rose to her full length, like a big snake rearing itself on end, and stalked like a pair of huge compasses to the fireplace.
"I've brought my knitting," said Mrs. Mason. Forthwith she pulled out a half-made stocking, and set to work upon it.
Mrs. Stuart stalked back again.
"The kettle don't seem to be of a mind to boil yet. Kettles are uncommon perverse articles," said Mrs. Mason. "I'm in no sort of a hurry, so it don't matter—not in the very least. But perhaps you're expecting company, in which case I'd best make myself scarce, seeing I'm not come by invitation."
Mrs. Mason knitted and smiled as she talked, showing no bodily inclination to budge.
"I'm not expecting no company," said Mrs. Stuart, with the intonation of a deeply injured woman.