"Am I right?" said he.
"Perfectly, young man," replied Miss Verjuice; "only, when my nephew married, I assumed all his debts; and I am now ready myself to pay your claim."
"Fairly trapped, by Jupiter!" exclaimed Scatterly, in an ecstasy of delight.
"Stop, stop!" cried the unhappy gardener, recoiling from the withered face, bearded lip, and sharp nose of the ancient spinster; "I relinquish my claim—I'll write a receipt in full."
"No, sir," said Scatterly; "you pressed me for payment this moment—and you shall take your pay, or I discharge you from my employ."
"I am ready," said the spinster, meekly.
Tom shuddered—crawled up to the old lady—shut his eyes—made up a horrible face, and kissed her, while Mr. and Mrs. S. stood by, convulsed with laughter.
Five minutes afterwards, Tom entered the gardener's lodge, pale, weak, and trembling, and sank into a chair.
"Give me a glass of water, Phebe!" he gasped.
"Dear, what has happened?" asked the little woman.