"Mr. Clayton has other things to do."
"Then he must not blame me if I dine with some one else."
"I refuse to let you go, Martha."
"And how will you keep me, please?" demanded Martha, petulantly, not because she really desired to break her covenant with her self-appointed backer, but merely to see what steps he might take if she gave evidence of breaking her parole. "Will you lock all the doors and keep me a prisoner?"
"Never mind," replied Aunt Jane. "Is this unknown admirer coming here to see you, or did you send him word to meet you on the street corner?"
"I sent him word to come here," replied Martha, indignantly. "I have no need to meet him elsewhere. I have nothing to be ashamed of."
"I refuse to let you go Martha."
"Very well, then," retorted Aunt Jane, going toward the library, as the back parlor was ambitiously named. "I'll telephone Mr. Clayton and say I wash my hands of you. If he wants to keep an eye on you, he will have to do it himself after to-night. I'll send for him at once."