THE PHANTOM OF THE STATION
There was a crash in Mrs. Morton's kitchen, where an elegant five o'clock tea was preparing, not only to greet Herbert, who had just come home to await the news of his fate after the last military examination open to him, but also for a friend or two of his mother's, who, to his great annoyance, might be expected to drop in on any Wednesday afternoon.
Every one ran out to see what was the matter, and the maid was found picking up Mrs. Morton's silver teapot, the basket-work handle of which had suddenly collapsed under the weight of tea and tea-leaves. The mistress's exclamations and objurgation of the maid for not having discovered its frail condition need not be repeated. It had been a wedding-present, and was her great pride. After due examination to see whet
