"'Old women,' indeed! Not so very much older than yourself, Mr. Herman Brudenell—if it comes to that! But anyways, if Reuben don't see as I am old, you needn't hit me in the teeth with it!" snapped Mrs. Gray.
"Hannah, Hannah, what a temper you have got, to be sure! It is well Reuben is as patient as Job."
"It is enough to rouse any woman's temper to be called old to her very face!"
"So it is, Hannah; I admit it, and beg your pardon. But nothing was farther from my thoughts than to offend you. I feel old myself—very old, and so I naturally think of the companions of my youth as old also. And now, will you talk to me about my son?"
"Well, yes, I will," answered Hannah, and her tongue being loosened upon the subject, she gave Mr. Brudenell all the incidents and anecdotes with which the reader is already acquainted, and a great many more with which I could not cumber this story.
While she was still "gossiping," and Herman all attention, steps were heard without, and the door opened, and Reuben Gray entered, smiling and radiant, and leading two robust children—a boy and a girl—each with a little basket of early fruit in hand.
On seeing a stranger Reuben Gray took off his hat, and the children stopped short, put their fingers in their mouths and stared.
"Reuben, have you forgotten our old landlord, Mr. Herman Brudenell?" inquired Hannah.
"Why, law, so it is! I'm main glad to see you, sir! I hope I find you well!" exclaimed Reuben, beaming all over with welcome, as Mr. Brudenell arose and shook hands with him, replying:
"Quite well, and very happy to see you, Gray."