"I'm afraid he was angry at your giving him an order," said I. "You must excuse him. He's an obstinate old fellow, but he is a good servant, and he has been with us many years."
"It's the most natural thing in the world that he should dislike me at first," answered Trayton Harrod, with that smile of his that was such a quick, short flash. "I rather like the sort of people who resent interference. But I don't suppose it was his doing for a moment. I buckled this up wrong."
He pointed to his part of the job. Father came up, and they drove off quietly together. I went back into the yard, musing on his words.
"I don't believe you'll find Mr. Harrod an unjust master, Reuben," said I.
Reuben took no notice; but Deborah laughed, and said, grimly:
"Well, he's a fine-grown young man, anyhow; and he'll know how to drive a mare, I don't doubt."
But I paid no attention to her words. I was wondering why Mr. Harrod had said that he rather liked people who resented interference.