“Yes, ma’am.”
“What a pity Thomas can’t have this chance,” she thought.
When it was nine o’clock, she said:
“You need not wait any longer. Mr. Wharton will not be home in time to hear you read.”
“Good-evening, Mrs. Bradley,” said Frank.
“Good-evening!” she responded, coldly.
“That boy is in the way,” she said to herself, when she was left alone. “He is in my way, and Tom’s way. I can see that he is artfully intriguing for Mr. Wharton’s favor, but I must checkmate him. It’s odd,” she resumed, after a pause, “but there is something in his face and voice that seems familiar to me. What is it?”
The following evening the housekeeper received another visit from her nephew.
“How do, aunt?” said Thomas Bradley, carelessly, as he entered the housekeeper’s room.