He got up, murmuring, “Just five minutes after nine,” and faced his clock.       “Ah,” said he, “you are doing better than usual. You are only thirty-four minutes wrong. Let me see... let me see.... Thirty-three and twenty-one are fifty-four; four times fifty-four are two hundred and thirty-six. One off, leaves two hundred and thirty-five. That's right.”      

       He turned the hands of his clock forward till they marked twenty-five minutes to one, and said, “Now see if you can't keep right for a while—else I'll raffle you!”      

       He sat down at the desk again, and said, “Aunt Susan!”      

       “Yes, dear.”      

       “Had breakfast?”      

       “Yes, indeed, an hour ago.”      

       “Busy?”      

       “No—except sewing. Why?”      

       “Got any company?”      

       “No, but I expect some at half past nine.”      

       “I wish I did. I'm lonesome. I want to talk to somebody.”      

       “Very well, talk to me.”      

       “But this is very private.”      

       “Don't be afraid—talk right along, there's nobody here but me.”      

       “I hardly know whether to venture or not, but—”      

       “But what? Oh, don't stop there! You know you can trust me, Alonzo—you know, you can.”      

       “I feel it, aunt, but this is very serious. It affects me deeply—me, and all the family—-even the whole community.”      

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