"Yes, sir."
Andy took a Broadway car, and just after twelve reached the house. The door was opened by a man-servant.
"I have a parcel for Mrs. Mason," said Andy.
"All right; I'll take it."
"I am only to deliver it into her hands."
"She isn't at home."
"Then I will wait for her. She said she would be here at twelve."
The man was about to speak rudely, when a lady mounted the steps.
"Are you from Mr. Flint?" she asked.
"Yes, madam."