“Why—yes, perhaps so. Why not? Then you'd be all settled here when she comes home. I'm sure, the sooner you come, the better I'll be pleased,” he smiled.
Aunt Hannah turned sharply.
“Here!” she ejaculated. “William Henshaw, you didn't suppose I was coming here to live, did you?”
It was William's turn to look amazed.
“Why, of course you're coming here! Where else should you go, pray?”
“Where I was before—before Billy came—to you,” returned Aunt Hannah a little tremulously, but with a certain dignity. “I shall take a room in some quiet boarding-house, of course.”
“Nonsense, Aunt Hannah! As if Billy would listen to that! You came before; why not come now?”
Aunt Hannah lifted her chin the fraction of an inch.
“You forget. I was needed before. Billy is a married woman now. She needs no chaperon.”
“Nonsense!” scowled William, again. “Billy will always need you.”