“I am afraid Andy is sick,” she said to herself. “How long it seems since I last saw him! He is my all, and if anything should happen to him, I don’t know what would become of me.”
Just then in came Miss Susan Peabody, who had always been attached to Mrs. Gordon.
“Well, Mrs. Gordon, and what do you hear from Andy?” she asked.
“Nothing,” answered the widow, sadly. “I have not had a letter for nearly a fortnight.”
“I heard something to-day that made me very angry,” said Miss Susan.
“About Andy?” asked Mrs. Gordon, looking up.
“Yes, about Andy. It’s scandalous!”
“You make me nervous,” said the widow. “Tell me what it is, my good friend.”
“As far as I can judge, it’s a rumor set afloat by Herbert Ross, who never liked Andy. He claims to have seen a paragraph—now you mustn’t mind it, for of course it’s a falsehood—implicating Andy in some crime—stealing, I believe.”
“It’s a base falsehood!” said Mrs. Gordon, her pale face flushing with justifiable anger.