“That—that is all right, Mrs. Prentice,” returned the girl.
Griff called back goodnight to her over his shoulder. And at the gate he parted from the lady whose carelessness had made all the trouble.
“That’s just what I told you, Mrs. Prentice,” he said. “They’re all right folks, those Morses. Yes, Mrs. Prentice, I’ll remember to send all those things you ordered over in the morning—first delivery,” and he went off, whistling.
CHAPTER V—THERE IS A GENERAL NEED
Mrs Prentice would have turned away from the gate of the Morse cottage and gone her homeward way, too, had she not heard a cackling little “ahem!” behind her. There was the wizened Mr. Chumley right on her heels.
“Very fortunate escape—very fortunate escape, indeed,” said the landlord.
“It was,” agreed the repentant lady. “I might have gone farther and done much worse in my excitement.”
“Oh, no,” said he. “I mean it was fortunate for the girl—and her mother. Of course, they’ve got nothing, and had the money really been missing it would have looked bad.”
Mrs. Prentice eyed him in a way that would have made a person with a thinner skin writhe a little. But Mr. Chumley’s feelings were not easily hurt.
“You evidently know all about those people?” said the lady, brusquely.