A few more sentences and Athol hung up the receiver, and sought the Doctor. He was boiling with rage.
“Brace up, old chap. It’s nothing serious, you may be sure of that, or your uncle would have sent for you at once. And, remember, mum’s the word.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll remember, sir. And thank you a whole lot, sir, for letting me phone. I’ll hold my jaw—I mean I won’t say a single word.”
“A pretty state of things, I’ll be bound,” stormed Dr. Kilton when Athol had gone. “Why that woman——” he did not complete his sentence.
“I wish she would sell out and go to live in Jericho, or some other remote place!” cried Mrs. Kilton, petulantly. Then added eagerly: “Oh Avary, perhaps she will—after all this. It will stir the whole countryside.”
CHAPTER XIX
FOR HAPPIER DAYS
While Athol was fuming at Kilton Hall and trying to keep his promise to his uncle to “hold his jaw,” though it very nearly resulted in lockjaw, the ferment at Leslie Manor grew.