'Can't see anyone. Give me a chance to fly upstairs,' whispered Mrs
Jo, preparing to escape. But before she could do so, a man appeared
at the door with a card in his hand. Ted met him with a stern air,
and his mother dodged behind the window-curtains to bide her time for
escape.

'I am doing a series of articles for the Saturday Tattler, and I
called to see Mrs Bhaer the first of all,' began the newcomer in the
insinuating tone of his tribe, while his quick eyes were taking in
all they could, experience having taught him to make the most of his
time, as his visits were usually short ones.

'Mrs Bhaer never sees reporters, sir.'

'But a few moments will be all I ask,' said the man, edging his way
farther in.

'You can't see her, for she is out,' replied Teddy, as a backward
glance showed him that his unhappy parent had vanished--through the
window, he supposed, as she sometimes did when hard bestead.

'Very sorry. I'll call again. Is this her study? Charming room!' And
the intruder fell back on the parlour, bound to see something and bag
a fact if he died in the attempt. 'It is not,' said Teddy, gently but
firmly backing him down the hall, devoutly hoping that his mother had
escaped round the corner of the house.

'If you could tell me Mrs Bhaer's age and birthplace, date of
marriage, and number of children, I should be much obliged,'