"What has become of Mrs. B.?" he thought. "She hasn't gone and left me, just when I've come home after an absence of five years? That boy can't have carried her off, can he?"
Brandon did not have long to debate this question in his own mind, for the door opened, and Grit and his mother entered. Brandon was relieved, but he could not forbear expressing his vexation.
"Well, Mrs. B.," he said, "this I call pretty goings on. Are you aware that it is nearly seven o'clock, ma'am?"
"I supposed it was," answered his wife quietly.
"And you've left me to starve here, ma'am! This is a strange time for supper."
"We've had supper," answered Grit coolly.
"Had supper!" ejaculated Brandon, looking about him. "I don't see any signs of supper."
"You won't see any signs of it here," continued Grit.
"What do you mean?"