"Yes, sir," responded Reuben; "and what time am I to expect the other things?"
"Miss Duveen is not quite sure, Reuben, when they will arrive. As a matter of fact, she has several purchases to make. But probably the bulk of it will arrive to-morrow afternoon."
"Yes, sir," said Reuben, and departed respiring noisily. As he made his exit Flamby carefully closed the door, and—"Oh," she cried, "what a funny old man! Whatever did he mean by hahsma?"
"I have been struggling with the same problem," declared Don, "and I have come to the conclusion that he referred to asthma."
"Oh," said Flamby breathlessly. "I hope he won't mind me laughing at him."
"I am sure he won't. He is a genial soul and generally liked in spite of his spirituous aroma. Now for the Aunt."
They walked around two angles of the gallery and entered a large room the windows of which overlooked the front lawn. It was furnished cosily as a library, and a cheerful fire burned in the big open grate. From the centre window an excellent view might be obtained of Reuben struggling with the cabin-trunk, which the placid taxi-driver had unstrapped and lowered on to the janitor's shoulders without vacating his seat.
"I hope he won't break the clock," said Flamby, sotto voce. She turned as Don went up to a little table at which a round old lady, the only occupant of the room, was seated writing. This old lady had a very round red face and very round wide-open surprised blue eyes. Her figure was round, too; she was quite remarkably circular.
"Ha, the Aunt!" cried Don, placing his hands affectionately upon her plump shoulders. "Here is our country squirrel come to town."
Mrs. Chumley laid down her pen and turned the surprised eyes upon Don. Being met with a smile, she smiled in response—and her smile was oddly like that of her nephew. Flamby knew in a moment that Mrs. Chumley was a sweet old lady, and that hers was one of those rare natures whose possessors see ill in no one, but good in all.