"Is your aunt at home?" inquired Mr. Dobson bruskly.
"Yes, sir."
"Then, I'll step in a minute, as I want to see her on business."
"What business can he possibly have?" thought Ben. "I wish his business lay with me, and that he wanted to employ me."
"Good morning, Mrs. Bradford," said Dobson rapidly. "No, thank you, I really haven't the time to sit down; I have a little business with you, that's all."
"Perhaps he wants to get me to do some sewing," thought Mrs. Bradford; but she was doomed to be disagreeably disappointed.
"Perhaps you are not aware of it," said Mr. Dobson, "but I am the city collector of taxes. I've got your tax bill made out. Let me see—here it is. Will it be convenient for you to pay it to-day?"
"How much is it?" faltered Mrs. Bradford.
"Eleven dollars and eighty cents, precisely," answered the collector.
Mrs. Bradford looked so doleful that Ben felt called upon to reply.