"Don't you know me, Aunt Eliza?" asked Warner Powell casting down his eyes under the sharp glance of the old lady.
"So it is you, is it?" responded Mrs. Merton, in a tone which could not be considered cordial.
"Yes, it is I. I hope you are not sorry to see me?"
"Humph! It depends on whether you have improved or not."
Luke Walton listened with natural interest and curiosity. This did not suit Mrs. Tracy, who did not care to have a stranger made acquainted with her brother's peccadilloes.
"Warner," she said, "I think Aunt Eliza will do you the justice to listen to your explanation. I imagine, young man, Mrs. Merton will not require your services any longer to-day."
The last words were addressed to Luke.
"Yes, Luke; you can go," said the old lady, in a very different tone.
Luk
