“This last one sounded like long distance, Oliver,” said Lizzie.
“How does long distance sound, Lizzie?” he asked, with a smile. “Never mind. You needn’t answer. Let ’em ring. Orders is orders. I told you half an hour ago not to take that receiver off the hook.”
Mrs. Grimes followed the servant out of the room, closing the hall door after her.
“How many times, Lizzie Meggs, do I have to tell you not to call Mr. Baxter Oliver when there’s company here?” she said sharply.
“I can’t help it. He’d drop dead if I called him Mr. Baxter. We’ve called each other by our first names ever since we were kids in school together. Say, how would it sound if he was to begin calling me Miss Meggs? It’s the same thing, isn’t it? We went to high-school together and—”
“Now don’t be saucy, Lizzie. I admit it’s nicer to be democratic and all that but it’s not proper, and you know it. I don’t know what we’re coming to. That young fellow that comes up here to see you calls me Serepty and then he turns around and calls you Miss Meggs. I don’t see—”
“He has known me only a few weeks and he’s known you all his life,” retorted Lizzie stiffly.
The front door opened suddenly and in walked Sammy Parr. Both women uttered a startled exclamation.
“Excuse haste,” he said, tossing his hat and gloves on a chair. “I’m back. Say, gee whiz, everybody in town is out on Clay Street, Aunt Serepty. Lots of them down this way, strolling past—”
“What are people saying, Sammy?” she broke in, grasping his arm.