“I bid you good morning,” now perfectly attired for another social call, “and ask you to pardon my emotion when I see such a library in the possession of a woman who does not know even the titles of her own books! I have heard of such ignorance, but never believed it until now!”
“Good-bye, Miss Yall’r Jackit,” I felt, and back in the chimney corner I dropped to dream again with the publishers’ wire commanding me from the mantel-piece.
In dreams again thy hand doth guide
Through meadow land where kine doth—
Tom so softly entered that his presence was unknown until he apologized: “De Bank Man say please ter step ter de telerfome.”
“Hello! Well?”
“Did you get the notice of your overdraft yesterday?”
“Indeed I did, and I was going to see you about it this morning and tell you there was some mistake.”
“In what way?” chillingly interrogated this voice of superior business intelligence.
“You have me overdrawn ten dollars when I know I have twenty dollars and thirty-five cents to my account.”
“I am very sorry,” he loftily and pityingly apologized, “but our books, according to your checks, show an overdraft.”