As for Hugh, if he had chanced to have the money with him just then he would only too gladly have loaned or given it to Matilda, so that she might get rid of the abusive farmer, whose very tone was harsh and rasping.
"It's my rule never to let anybody get away with more than a second month's milk," the big man was saying in that loud, abusive voice of his. "You asked me to let the account go on another spell when I handed you the same before, and now you tell me you haven't got the five dollars it calls for because some old tramp of a brother that you haven't seen for twenty years has dropped down on you, and had to be taken care of. Well, Mrs. Hosmer, I'm not helping to run a hospital, let me tell you; I've got all I can do to look after my own folks. You mustn't expect me to deliver you any more milk till you can pay this; and I hope you'll get the cash soon, too, because I've some accounts of my own I want to settle."
Matilda was near tears, for such a scene as this frightened her. Poor old Mr. Hosmer tried to bustle forward and enter into the conversation; but the husky dairyman just brushed him aside as though he were no more than a child.
"I'm not talking to you about it, Mr. Hosmer," he went on to say, almost brutally; "it's your wife I do business with. I'll be looking to her to settle my account. And if what I hear honest folks a-sayin' is near true, the sooner she gets rid of her disreputable brother the better for all concerned."
Matilda's eyes flashed.
"You need not add insult to injury, Mr. Bernard," she flashed, showing a little touch of spirit that Hugh hardly believed she possessed. "He is the only living tie to bind me with my long past childhood. We were once very fond of each other; and now that poor Luther has fallen sick, and fears he has not long to live, I mean to stand by him, no matter how people talk."
Brother Lu looked as though this sort of thing gave him something akin to joy. He even shot a tender glance across at Matilda, and then a triumphant one toward the two boys, as though to say: "Didn't I tell you my sister had a tender heart?"
Then he got on his feet. He really seemed a trifle weak, showing that he had actually been under the weather latterly.
"How much does my sister owe you, man?" he demanded in as stern a voice as he could command.
"Oh! does that interest you at all, Mister Weary Willie?" sneered the irate farmer; "well, if you want to know, my account is an even five dollars. Perhaps, now, you'll put your hand into your jeans pocket and hand out that amount with pleasure."