“You might say ‘yes, sir.’”
“All right. I’ll remember next time.”
“You’d better. Tell your aunt I want to see her—on business,” emphasizing the last two words.
“Come right in, sir.”
Mr. Jones, with a patronizing air, entered the house of which he already considered himself the proprietor.
Mrs. Trafton was engaged in making a pudding, for she had two boarders now, Julian and his father, who were to take their meals in the fisherman’s cottage till they got ready to leave Cook’s Harbor.
“Good mornin’, ma’am,” said Mr. Jones.
“Good morning. Will you take a seat?” she said quietly.
“I can’t stay long, Mrs. Trafton. I called on a little matter of business.”
“Very well, sir.”