"That infernal Mayfair, and the whole gang of reporters!" exclaimed Jack.
"Oh, Jack,—Judge Harvey! Save me! Save me!"
"The hour set for the funeral is passed," Mayfair continued to call, "the drawing-room is packed with people, and the body hasn't arrived yet. We don't want to make ourselves obnoxious, but it's almost press-time for the next edition, and we've got to know what's doing. You know what a big story this is. Understand—we've simply got to know!"
"Judge—what the devil are we going to do?" breathed Jack.
"My God, Caroline, Jack,—this is awful!" Judge Harvey whispered desperately. "We simply can't keep this out of the papers, and when it does get out—"
"Oh! Oh!" moaned Mrs. De Peyster.
"Judge Harvey," called the impatient Mr. Mayfair, "you really must tell us what's up!"
Judge Harvey and Jack and Mary regarded each other in blank desperation; Mrs. De Peyster and Olivetta and Matilda were merely different varieties of jellied helplessness.
"Judge Harvey," Mr. Mayfair called again, "we simply must insist!"
"Caroline," falteringly whispered Judge Harvey, "I don't see what we—"