"Herbert!"
Her tone was accusing, but her husband nodded, with a pleased look of assurance.
"You may read it for yourself, I'm sure—if you don't believe me!"
He handed the paper over to her, and she received it gingerly, after looking to the tea-basket with a housewifely air, and placing the lamp quite to one side, out of harm's way. Then she turned to the article indicated, reading slowly, while her daughter looked over her shoulder.
"Why, he's been dead!"
She glanced up suddenly, toward me, with a shamefaced look.
"He was dead at the very time you were telling Grace all those atrocious things about him!" Hilda reminded her, smiling at the look of discomfiture which had crept over the kindly, wrinkled little face.
"Yes! It's—extraordinary!"
"And it makes us both feel—a little uncomfortable, eh?"
Her husband's tone was tormenting, but she turned on him seriously.