"Oh, they can't hear me," the old gentleman went on; "John, you better go out and see them. They have a card with your name written on it. I'm no lady's man, anyhow."
"Do they look like queens?" Clara J. asked, uneasily.
"Well, they aren't exactly Cleopatras, but not bad, not bad!" he gurgled.
"Is one older than the other?" Clara J. cross-questioned.
"Might be mother and daughter," Uncle Peter fancied.
"It's surely Bunch's bunch," I groaned inwardly, wondering how I'd look galloping across the country with a kitchen chair trailing along behind.
"Uncle Peter, it must be John Henry's Aunt Eliza and cousin Julia. He expects them, don't you, John?" Clara J. explained. "We shall be ready to welcome them in just a little while;" here she glanced cautiously at the chair. "In the meantime you show them into the spare room and say that John will see them very soon."
The old gentleman eyed me suspiciously and retired without a word.
I'm afraid Uncle Peter found it hard to take.
With the kind assistance of the carving knife Clara J. removed all of me from the chair, with the exception of a few feet of trousers, and I made a quick change of costume.