“I want a moment’s talk with you,” said a feminine voice.
“And who is speaking?”
“Have you not recognized my voice, dear Mr. Maston? It is Mrs. Scorbitt.”
“Mrs. Scorbitt! She will not leave me a moment’s peace.”
But the last words were prudently muttered above the instrument, so that the widow heard them not. And J. T. Maston, seeing that he must say something civil, replied,—
“Ah! It is you, Mrs. Scorbitt?”
The blackboard he struck with his back.
Page [57].
“I, dear Mr. Maston!”
“And what does Mrs. Scorbitt want with me?”