“I’ve had a quiet time for once in my life,” said Mr. Jimson. “I ought to have got married long ago. I have some one to look after me, and me only now. How is your wife?”
“Well, thank you.”
“And Tom and Berty and Bonny—gracious! I feel as if I had been away a year instead of three weeks.”
A shade passed over Roger’s face. “All well but Grandma and Berty.”
“What’s the matter with Grandma?”
“I don’t know. I am afraid she is breaking up.”
The Mayor looked serious, then he asked, abruptly, “And Berty?”
“Oh, River Street—it’s on her brain and conscience, and it is wearing her body down.”
“She’s doing what the rest of us ought to do,” said Mr. Jimson, shortly, “but, bless me—you can’t make over a city in a day; and we’re no worse than others.”
“I suppose the city council is pretty bad.”