"Oh, certain, mistis, certain—only dar ain't no mistake," said the woman, as she returned with the message she was charged to deliver.
"Did you ever see such a change?" asked Mrs. Le Moyne of her companion as soon as the door was closed upon the servant. "There never was a time before when Hesden did not come the instant I called, no matter upon what he might be engaged."
"Yes," said the other, laughingly, "I used to tell Julia that it would make me awfully jealous to have a husband jump up and leave me to go and pet his mother before the honeymoon was over."
"Poor Julia!" sighed the invalid. "Hesden never appreciated her—never. He didn't feel her loss as I did."
"I should think not," replied the sister-in-law, sharply. "But he might at least have had regard enough for her memory not to have flirted so outrageously with that Yankee school-marm."
"What do you mean, Hetty!" said Mrs. Le Moyne, severely. "Please remember that it is my son of whom you are speaking."
"Oh, yes," said Miss Hetty, sharply, "we have been speaking of him all along, and—"
The door from the hall was opened quickly, and Hesden looking in, said pleasantly,
"I hope you are not suffering, mother?"
"Not more than usual, Hesden," said Mrs. Le Moyne, "but I wish to see you very particularly, my son."