'I don't know, uncle, because I have never had any,' said Gladys, with a little laugh. 'I daresay I should like them very well.'
The old man gave a grunt, and turned on his pillow, as if tired of talk.
Gladys busied herself with the evening meal, and when it was ready called Walter down. It was a pretty sight to see her waiting on the old man, attending to his comforts, and coaxing him to eat. In the evening she ran out to get some medicine for him, and when he was left with Walter, busy at his books at the table, he sat up suddenly, as if he had something interesting and important to say.
'How are you getting on with your learning, Wat? You are pretty constant at it. If there's anything in application, you should succeed.'
'It's pretty tough work, though, when a fellow's getting older.'
'Older,' repeated the old man, with a quiet chuckle. 'How old are you?'
'Nineteen.'
'Nineteen, are you? Well, you look it. You've vastly improved of late. I suppose you think yourself rather an ill-used sort of person—ill used by me, I mean?'
'I don't think you pay me enough, if you mean that,' said Walter, with a little laugh; 'but I'm going to ask a rise.'
'Why have you stayed here so long, if that is your mind? Nobody was compelling you.'