“Is this Mrs. Merton?” asked Mrs. Courtenay.
“Yes, madam.”
“I called to inquire about a servant who referred me to you,” continued Mrs. Courtenay, haughtily; “but I didn’t anticipate the company I should find myself in.”
Following her glance, Mrs. Merton was struck with dismay, as she saw the second visitor.
“How came you here?” she demanded hastily.
“The little gal brought me. It wasn’t my fault indeed, mum,” whined the old woman.
“What do you want?”
“I’m a poor widder, mum. If you could be so kind as to give me a few pennies.”
“I have nothing for you to-day. You can go,” said Mrs. Merton, who was too provoked to be charitable, as otherwise she might have been. She pointed to the door, and the applicant for charity hobbled out hastily, feeling that she was not likely to obtain anything under present circumstances.
“I must beg your pardon,” said Mrs. Merton, “for the mistake of an inexperienced child, who has never before waited upon the door; though, how she could have made such an absurd blunder, I cannot tell.”