CHAPTER XVII. AN UNWELCOME VISITOR.
Mrs. Brandon was laying the cloth for dinner when she heard a scuffling sound, as of footsteps, in the entry.
"Who is with Mr. Brandon?" she thought. "It can't be Grit. They wouldn't be likely to come home together."
Her uncertainty was soon at an end, for the door was opened, and her husband reeled in, sinking into the nearest chair, of necessity, for his limbs refused to support him. Just behind him was Mr. Thomas Travers, who was also under the influence of his recent potations, but not to the same extent as his companion.
"How do, Mrs. B.?" said her liege lord. "Mrs. B., I have the pleasure of introducin' my frien' Travers. Come in, Travers."
Mrs. Brandon surveyed the two with a look of disgust, and did not speak.
"I hope I see you well, ma'am," said Travers, rather awkwardly, endeavoring, with some difficulty, to maintain an erect attitude. "Sorry to intrude, but my old friend Brandon insisted."