“Not very much. He said something about waiting for the books.”
“I hope they were not too late.”
“I went as quickly as I could with them.”
“I know you did, Tom. I mean I hope I sent you off with them in time. The doctor likes to have things the minute they are promised, though, often, after he has them, he forgets all about them. Was he much put out?”
“Not very. I didn’t have a chance to say much to him, as the lady who answered the door told the doctor it was time for his supper.”
“Ah, I dare say he had forgotten all about it. That’s his way. What did the woman say? She is his sister-in-law, I believe, though she has married a second time.”
Tom related as much of the conversation as he could remember.
“Hum,” mused the bookseller. “She’s a strange woman—very strange. Well, I guess the books got there in time. Now, Tom, I want you to go on an errand for me.”
When Tom got back from having taken some books to a customer who was stopping at the Parker House, he found the Emporium a busy place. There were a number of customers present, for the holiday rush was on, and all the clerks, and Mr. Townsend, were engaged in showing books, or wrapping up parcels.
Seeing that Mr. Townsend was busy, Tom decided to defer for the present reporting on the result of his errand. He hung up his coat and hat, and as there seemed to be nothing else for him to do, he proceeded to tidy up a table of small booklets, that was usually in disorder, as customers were continually looking over the stock.