Mrs. Bixbee, known to most of those who enjoyed the privilege of her acquaintance as “Aunt Polly,” though nieces and nephews of her blood there were none in Homeville, Freeland County, looked curiously at her brother, as, in fact, she had done at intervals during the repast; and concluding at last that further forbearance was uncalled for, relieved the pressure of her curiosity thus: 

“Guess ye got somethin’ on your mind, hain’t ye?  You hain’t hardly said aye, yes, ner no sence you set down.  Anythin’ gone ’skew?”

David lifted his saucer, gave the contents a precautionary blow, and emptied it with sundry windy suspirations.

“No,” he said, “nothin’ hain’t gone exac’ly wrong, ’s ye might say—­not yet; but I done that thing I was tellin’ ye of to-day.”

“Done what thing?” she asked perplexedly.

“I telegraphed to New York,” he replied, “fer that young feller to come on—­the young man General Wolsey wrote me about.  I got a letter from him to-day, an’ I made up my mind ‘the sooner the quicker,’ an’ I telegraphed him to come ’s soon ’s he could.”

“I forgit what you said his name was,” said Aunt Polly.

“There’s his letter,” said David, handing it across the table.  “Read it out ’loud.”

“You read it,” she said, passing it back after a search in her pocket; “I must ‘a’ left my specs in the settin’-room.”

The letter was as follows: 

“Dear sir:  I take the liberty of addressing you at the instance of General Wolsey, who spoke to me of the matter of your communication to him, and was kind enough to say that he would write you in my behalf.  My acquaintance with him has been in the nature of a social rather than a business one, and I fancy that he can only recommend me on general grounds.  I will say, therefore, that I have had some experience with accounts, but not much practice in them for nearly three years.  Nevertheless, unless the work you wish done is of an intricate nature, I think I shall be able to accomplish it with such posting at the outset as most strangers would require.  General Wolsey told me that you wanted some one as soon as possible.  I have nothing to prevent me from starting at once if you desire to have me.  A telegram addressed to me at the office of the Trust Company will reach me promptly.

“Yours very truly,

“JohnK. Lenox.”

“Wa’al,” said David, looking over his glasses at his sister, “what do you think on’t?”

“The’ ain’t much brag in’t,” she replied thoughtfully.

“No,” said David, putting his eyeglasses back in their case, “th’ ain’t no brag ner no promises; he don’t even say he’ll do his best, like most fellers would.  He seems to have took it fer granted that I’ll take it fer granted, an’ that’s what I like about it.  Wa’al,” he added, “the thing’s done, an’ I’ll be lookin’ fer him to-morrow mornin’ or evenin’ at latest.”