"My name is Randy Thompson. I am the son of Louis Thompson, of Riverport."
"Ah, I see."
The woman said no more, but seemed to await developments. Randy was greatly embarrassed. His aunt's coldness repelled him, and he easily saw that he was not a welcome visitor. A touch of pride came to him and he resolved that he would be as unsociable as his relative.
"What can he want of me?" thought the woman.
As Randy said nothing more she grew tired of the stillness and drew herself up once more.
"You must excuse me this morning," she said. "I am particularly engaged. I suppose you know where your uncle's store is. You will probably find him there." And then she rang for the servant to show our hero to the door. He was glad to get out into the open air once more.
"So that is Aunt Grace," he mused. "Well, I don't know as I shall ever wish to call upon her again. She is as bad as an iceberg for freezing a fellow. No wonder she and mother have never become friends."
CHAPTER VIII
RANDY AND HIS UNCLE PETER