“In what mood? I hope they were not—quarreling.”
“They were disputing rather earnestly, father looked troubled, and so did Bradley.”
“They were talking of the perishing poor and the dreadful state of. England no doubt. It’s enough to trouble anybody, I’m sure of that.”
“So it is, but then father has a bad way of making things look worse than they are. And he isn’t friendly with Bradley now. That seems wrong, mother, after being friends all their live-long lives.”
“It is wrong. It is a bit of silent treason to each other. It is that! And how did thou happen to see them talking this morning?”
“They met on the village green. I think Bradley spoke first.”
“I’ll warrant it. Bradley is varry good-natured, and he thought a deal o’ thy father. How did thou happen to be on the green so early in the day?”
“I was sitting with Faith Foster, and her parlor window faces the Green.”
“Faith Foster! And pray what took thee to her house?”
“I was helping her to sew for a lot of Annis babies that are nearly naked, and perishing with cold.”