"It's well there is somebody to attend to things," she said in a dry aside to William. "Mrs. Richie just walks around as if she didn't belong here. And she lets that child sit up until this hour! I can't understand how a sensible woman can deliberately spoil a child.--I'd like to know what that perfume is that she uses," she ended frowning. It was after supper, while the husband and wife, still oppressed with their responsibilities, were standing in the doorway looking in upon the cheerful party now in full enjoyment of its own hospitality, that Eddy Minns came up behind them and touched William King's arm. "Dr. King," he said breathlessly, "a telegram, sir. For Mrs. Richie. And mother said it was bad news!" "Oh, William!" said Martha; "bad news! Do you know what it is, Eddy?" "Somebody is dead," the boy said, important and solemn. "Her brother?" William King asked in dismay. "Well, not the brother that comes here; his name is Lloyd, mother said. This is somebody whose name begins with 'F.' Perhaps another brother. Mother showed the despatch to me; it just said: 'F. died suddenly yesterday in Paris.' It was signed 'S. R.'" "It isn't from Pryor, then," William commented. "Oh, William," Martha whispered, "what shall we do? Must you give it to her _now?_--oh, William!" Dr. King stood staring at the orange-colored envelope in silence. "Shall I call Dr. Lavendar?" Martha asked breathlessly. "Wait," her husband said; "let me think: it may not be anybody very near and dear; but whether it is or not, there is nothing she can do about it to-night. The telegraph-office is closed. I don't see why her evening need be spoiled. No; I won't give it to her now. When the people go--" "Oh, dear! Dr. Lavendar says we must end up with a reel. But I'll get them off as soon as I can," Martha declared, in her capable voice, "and then I'll break it to her." "I will tell her," the doctor said. He put the envelope in his pocket with a troubled frown. "If she is in affliction, a woman will be more comfort to her than a man," Martha instructed him. "Look at her now, poor thing! She little thinks--No indeed; I must stay with her. I'm very tired, and she's not very friendly, but I won't shirk my duty on that account. That's one thing about me: I may not be perfect, but I don't let personal feelings interfere with duty." "It isn't your duty," William said impatiently; "you'd better arrange about the reel." And with that he left her. But he was so uneasy at withholding the telegram that he forgot to choose a partner, and let Martha push him into place opposite Miss Maggie Jay, who was so stout that when the two large bodies went jigging down the lane, the clasping hands arched above their heads had to break apart to give them room.