“Alvar, when old Bill asked me about the ointment, I did not know that you had been giving any orders about it. I am very sorry for the mistake.”
“It is not of consequence,” said Alvar. “Do not trouble yourself about it.”
The words were kind, but the tone was less so; and there was something in Alvar’s manner which made it difficult even for Jack to say,—“I’m afraid old Bill Fisher was provoking. He should have told you that he could not get the stuff; but he is such an old servant, and so faithful. I hope you won’t dismiss him for it. He seems to belong to us altogether.”
“I shall not change,” said Alvar.
“But it’s an extremely harsh measure, and will make every one about the place detest you,” said Jack, still considering himself to be speaking with praiseworthy moderation.
“I will judge myself of the measure.” Then Cherry conquered his pride, and said pleadingly,—
“I wish it very much.”
“I am sorry to grieve you,” said Alvar, more gently; “but I have determined.”
“Well,” said Jack, losing patience, “we spoke as much for your sake as for Bill’s. Every one will consider it harsh dealing and a great shame. You’ll make them hate you.”
“I will make them fear me,” said Alvar.