"Mother," she screamed, shrilly, as she saw who it was, "here's father come home, and there's somebody with him!"
At this intimation, a woman came from a back room to the door. She looked thin and careworn, as if the life which she led was not a very happy one.
"Mrs. Huxter, I suppose?" asked John.
"Yes," said she.
"Your husband does not feel quite well," said John, expressing in as delicate a manner as possible the fact that something was out of order with Mr. Huxter.
"Who said I wasn't well?" exclaimed Mr. Huxter, in a rough voice. "Never was better in my life. I say, Polly, can't you get us something to eat? I'm most starved."
Mrs. Huxter looked inquiringly at John, whose presence with her husband she did not understand.
"I believe I am to stop here for a day or two," said John, responding to her look. "My name is John Oakley. I am the stepson of Mr. Huxter's sister."
"Oh, yes, I know," said Mrs. Huxter. "I am afraid we can't accommodate you very well, Mr. Oakley, but we'll do our best."