Mr. Reed was really touched. They entered the basement. Mrs. Reed, like Mrs. Gargery, still had on her apron. Charles put the pepper in the canister, his mother took care of the horseradish. Then he sat down with his history.
"For pity's sake, Abner Reed, what have you done to that child! He looks like a scarecrow! He's shaved thin in one place and great tufts left in another. I was going to cut his hair this very evening. And I'll trim it to some decency now."
She sprang up for the shears.
"You will let him alone," said Mr. Reed, in a firm, dignified tone. "He is quite old enough to look like other boys. When I want him to go to the barber's I'll take him. You will find enough to do. Charles, get a lamp and go up to your own room."
"I don't allow him to have a lamp in his room. He will set something a-fire."
"Then go up in the parlor."
"The parlor!" his mother shrieked.
"I'll go to bed," said Charles. "I know my lesson."
There was a light in the upper hall. On the second floor were the sleeping-chambers. Charles' was the back hall room. He could see very well from the light up the stairway.
What happened in the basement dining-room he could not even imagine. His father so seldom interfered in any matter, and his mother had a way of talking him down. But Charles was asleep when they came to bed.