“But what do you want to see him for?”
“Business, business, Mary-'Gusta. Mr. Keith and me are tryin' to do a little stroke of business together. We've got a hen on, as the feller said. Say, this is kind of a swell house, ain't it? And clean—my soul! Judas! did I move this chair out of place? I didn't mean to. Looks as if it had set right in that one spot for a hundred years.”
Keith entered at that moment, followed by an elderly lady whose gown was almost as old-fashioned as the furniture. She was a rather thin person but her face, although sharp, was not unkind in expression and her plainly arranged hair was white. Mary-'Gusta liked her looks; she guessed that she might be very nice indeed to people she knew and fancied; also that she would make certain of knowing them first.
“Hello, Captain Gould,” hailed Keith. “Glad to see you. Found the place all right, I see.”
“Yes—yes, I found it, Mr. Keith.”
“I thought you wouldn't have any difficulty. Mary, how do you do?”
Mary-'Gusta and Mr. Keith shook hands.
“Captain,” said Keith, “I want to introduce you to my cousin, Mrs. Wyeth.”
Mrs. Wyeth bowed with dignity.
“How do you do, Captain Gould,” she said.