"Thomas," said Mrs. Grayson, as she gathered up the hitherto neglected breakfast plates, "Martha and Barbara have come from home this morning."
"I suppose so," said Grayson, looking out of the window.
"Now it's not going to do for us to let them go without coming here to breakfast," said the wife. "People will say we're hardhearted; and when they once get to talking there's no knowing what they won't say. They might blame us about Tom, though the Lord knows we did our best for him."
"Will you go and ask Martha and Barbara to come over?" said Grayson, with a sneaking desire to escape the disagreeable duty.
"I can't bear to," said his wife. "I hate to go to the jail and see Tom there. Besides, if they're coming I must make some coffee."
Grayson stood still and looked out of the window.
"Will they let them come if you ask 'em?" inquired Janet.
"Let who come?" said her father abstractedly.
"Aunt Martha and Barbara and Tom."
"Of course they'll not keep your Aunt Martha nor Barbara. They haven't killed anybody."