“You won't tell me anything?” she asked.
“Not a mite,” said the Judge. “Ain't no use askin' it,” and he chuckled.
Henrietta put her hand to her cheek, so hot was the cheek that it was like flame to her hand. She turned from the Judge and saw Johnnie Al-berson coming up the hill, as jaunty and unconcerned as if the day was not broiling hot.
“Oh!” wailed Henrietta, and she sped down and across the street and intercepted the obnoxious druggist. He received her with a smile.
“Hot day,” he said genially.
Henrietta brushed this aside.
“Did you send Carter Bruce West? To attend to my divorce? Did you dare interfere to that extent in my affairs? Did you?” she demanded.
“Bruce? Carter Bruce?” said Johnnie. “Why, yes, come to think of it, I did send him West on some sort of a divorce business. You see, I thought such things went better when personally conducted—”
“I don't care what you think! Did you dare to pay my bill to Miss Susan? Did you dare do that?”
“Oh! was that your bill I paid?” asked Johnnie. “I did pay some board bill. I do remember that now.”