"He does not know what he is saying," she said, apologetically.
"Yes, I do," persisted Godfrey. "I'm a—a gen'leman's son. I don't want you to interfere with gen'leman's son."
He was put to bed, and awoke the next morning with a splitting headache. It was the morning of the day which the doctor and Mr. Graves had chosen to call on Mrs. Preston. She was preparing to go out, when a servant came upstairs to announce that two gentlemen were in the parlor, and wanted to see her.
"Two gentlemen! What do they look like, Nancy?"
"One of 'em looks like he was from the country, mum."
This referred to Mr. Graves, who did have a rustic look. The doctor would readily have passed for a Bostonian.
"Did they give their names?"
"No, mum."
"I will go down directly. I suppose they won't stay long."
Mrs. Preston sailed into the parlor with the air of a city lady, as she proudly imagined, but stopped short in some surprise when she recognized her visitors. Of course, she did not suspect the nature of their business.