"Perhaps you are right (now the other hand, Mary). Of course you can have James and the coupé, if you will order what you want. It will be pleasanter for you, if not for Fred."
Bess felt her color come. She had not expected much from Mrs. Allen, but this was too unkind,—to think that she was speaking two words for herself and one for Fred! But Mrs. Allen was not fine enough to see how her remark had cut, and Bess resolved to bear anything for the sake of her boy; so she thanked his mother, a little coldly, perhaps, and then departed to the kitchen, where she asked the coachman to bring the coupé to the door as soon as he could, and requested the plump, ruddy cook, the family tyrant, to get her Fred's coat and hat.
The good woman's face brightened perceptibly.
"An' is it goin' out he is? Bless the poor dear b'y; it's a long, long time since he's had a hat on his head, and it's I as am glad to be gettin' it for you. The air'll do him good, sure!"
Bess thanked the woman warmly as she took the wraps, for she noted the difference in tone between the mother and the servant. Then she returned to the parlor, where she dropped Fred's heavy coat and hat on a chair, and went back to her old place by the fire.
"Seems to me you've been gone a good while," said the boy, as Bess sat down on the sofa, and pulled his head, pillow and all, into her lap.
"I just wanted you to find out how charming my society is," she said playfully, as she twisted his scalp-lock till it stood wildly erect.
"As if I didn't know anyway," responded Fred. "But what are you trying to do to me?"
"Only beautifying you a little, sonny," said Bess, with one eye on the window.
In a few moments she saw the carriage drive up to the door and stop. She took the boy's hand firmly in her own, and said very quietly, from her position of vantage,—