"Oh!" exclaimed Nellie. "How shocked father will be! They were always rather friendly. By the way, I had a letter from mother this morning. It appears as if Toronto was a sort of paradise. But you can see the old thing prefers Bursley. Father's had a boil on his neck, just at the edge of his collar. He says it's because he's too well. What did Mr Bloor die off?"
"He was in the fashion," said Denry.
"How?"
"Appendicitis, of course. Operation—domino! All over in three days."
"Poor man!" Nellie murmured, trying to feel sad for a change and not succeeding. "And he was to have been mayor in November, wasn't he? How disappointing for him."
"I expect he's got something else to think about," said Denry.
After a pause Nellie asked suddenly:
"Who'll be mayor—now?"
"Well," said Denry, "his Worship Councillor Barlow, J.P., will be extremely cross if he isn't."
"How horrid!" said Nellie, frankly. "And he's got nobody at all to be mayoress."