"Seven o'clock! What is it? A parcel?"
Lizzie could not control her laughter when he said "parcel." "Ow!" she giggled. "Ow, dear, ow, dear! A parcel! Ow, yes, it's a parcel all right! You'll see when you get up!..."
He began to mount the stairs. "You're an awful fool, Lizzie," he said crossly, leaning over the banisters.
"Losin' your temper, eih?" she replied, bolting the street door.
He hurried up to the sitting-room and as he climbed the flight of stairs that led directly to it, Hinde called out to him, "Is that you, Mac?"
"Yes," he answered.
Hinde came to the door and opened it fully. "There's someone here to see you," he said.
"To see me! At this hour?"
He entered the room as he spoke. His mother was sitting in front of the fire.
"Mother!" he exclaimed, remembering just in time not to say "Ma!" which would have sounded very childish in front of Hinde.