She kept no servant, and, as usual, answered the knock in person.

“Mr. Ross!” she said, in surprise, as she recognized in her caller the wealthy village lawyer.

“Yes, Mrs. Gordon,” said Mr. Ross, blandly², for he had determined³ in this business to figure simply as the agent of another and carefully to conceal⁴ that he felt any personal interest in an affair which was likely to give the poor widow considerable trouble. “Yes, Mrs. Gordon. I call upon a little matter of business.”{36}

“Won’t you come in?” said the widow, not forgetting her politeness in her surprise.

“I believe I will trespass⁵ on your hospitality for a brief space,” said the lawyer. “Are you quite well?”

“Thank you, sir—quite so.” And she led the way into the little sitting-room⁶. “Take the rocking-chair, Mr. Ross,” said the widow, pointing to the best chair which the plainly furnished apartment contained.

“You are very kind,” said the lawyer, seating himself gingerly in the chair referred to.

“Your son is at school, I suppose?” continued the lawyer.

“Yes, sir. It is nearly time for Andy to be home.” And the mother’s voice showed something of the pride she felt in her boy. “I believe your son is in his class, Mr. Ross.”

“Yes, very likely,” responded the lawyer, indifferently.

“You said you came on business?” inquired the widow.

“Yes, Mrs. Gordon. I fear the business may prove unpleasant for you, but you will remember that I am only an agent in the matter.”

“Unpleasant!” repeated Mrs. Gordon, apprehensively⁷.

“Yes. Mr. Joshua Starr has placed in my{37} hands, for collection, a note for one hundred dollars, executed by your late husband. With

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