Mr. Cox laid the letter down with extreme care, and, coughing gently, glanced in a sheepish fashion at the goggle-eyed Mr. Piper.
For some time neither of them spoke. Mr. Cox was the first to break the silence and—when he had finished—Mr. Piper said “Hush.”
“Besides, it does no good,” he added.
“It does me good,” said Mr. Cox, recommencing.
Mr. Piper held up his hand with a startled gesture for silence. The words died away on his friend’s lips as a familiar voice was heard in the passage, and the next moment Mrs. Berry entered the room and stood regarding them.
“I ran down by the same train to make sure you came, uncle,” she remarked. “How long have you been here?”
Mr. Piper moistened his lips and gazed wildly at Mr. Cox for guidance.
“‘Bout—’bout five minutes,” he stammered.
“We were so glad dear uncle wasn’t hurt much,” continued Mrs. Berry, smiling, and shaking her head at Mr. Cox; “but the idea of your burying him in the geranium-bed; we haven’t got him clean yet.”
Mr. Piper, giving utterance to uncouth noises, quitted the room hastily, but Mr. Cox sat still and stared at her dumbly.