"Vesta Blyth," said Mrs. Tree, slowly, "am I dead?"
"Dear Aunt Marcia! what a singular question!"
"Do I look as if I were going to die?"
"Surely not! I have rarely seen you looking more robust."
"Very well! When I am dead, you may talk to me about Maria and her two daughters; I sha'n't mind it then. What else have you got to say? I am going to take my nap soon, so if you have anything more, out with it!"
Miss Vesta, after a hurried mental review of subjects that might be soothing, made a snatch at one.
"Doctor Stedman came to see the children off. I think he is almost as sorry to lose Geoffrey as we are. It is a real pleasure to see him looking so well and vigorous. He really looks like a young man."
"Don't speak to me of James Stedman!" exclaimed Mrs. Tree. "I never wish to hear his name again."
"Aunt Marcia! dear James Stedman! Our old and valued friend!"
"Old and valued fiddlestick! Who wanted him to come back? Why couldn't he stay where he was, and poison the foreigners? He might have been of some use there."