“Mother!” said Mary North, horrified, “you do say such things! But really he oughtn't to come so often. I'll—I'll take you away from Old Chester rather than have him bother you.”
“Mary, you are just as foolish as his daughter-in-law,” said Mrs. North, impatiently.
And, somehow, poor Mary North's heart sank.
Nor was she the only perturbed person in town that night. Mrs. Cyrus had a headache, so it was necessary for Cyrus to hold her hand and assure her that Willy King said a headache did not mean brain fever.
“Willy King doesn't know everything. If he had headaches like mine, he wouldn't be so sure. I am always worrying about things, and I believe my brain can't stand it. And now I've got your father to worry about!”
“Better try and sleep, Gussie. I'll put some Kaliston on your head.”
“Kaliston! Kaliston won't keep me from worrying.—Oh, listen to that harmonicon!”
“Gussie, I'm sure he isn't thinking of Mrs. North.”
“Mrs. North is thinking of him, which is a great deal more dangerous. Cyrus, you must ask Dr. Lavendar to interfere.”
As this was at least the twentieth assault upon poor Cyrus's common sense, the citadel trembled.