“He gave me such a furious glance as he passed by, that I was sure something had annoyed him,” said Frithiof.
“Never mind, it is the last you will have from him,” said Roy, rubbing his hands with satisfaction. “He has vowed that he will never darken our doors again. Think what a reign of peace will set in.”
“He has really retired, then?” said Frithiof. “I was afraid it must be so. I can’t stand it, Roy; I can’t let you make such a sacrifice for me.”
“Sacrifice! stuff and nonsense!” said Roy cheerfully. “I have not felt so free and comfortable for an age. We shall be well rid of the old bore.”
“But his capital?”
“Goes away with him,” said Roy; “it will only be a slight inconvenience; probably he will hurt himself far more than he hurts us, and serve him right, too. If there’s a man on earth I detest it is my worthy cousin James Horner.”
Frithiof naturally shared this sentiment, yet still he felt very sorry that Mr. Horner had kept his word and left the firm, for all through the autumn he had been hoping that he might relent and that his bark would prove worse than his bite. The sense of being under such a deep obligation to the Bonifaces was far from pleasant to him; however, there seemed no help for it and he could only balance it against the great relief of being free from James Horner’s continual provocations.
Later in the evening, when supper was over, he went round to see Herr Sivertsen about some fresh work, and on returning to the model lodgings found Swanhild alone.
“Where is Sigrid?” he asked.
“She has gone in to see the Hallifields,” replied the little girl, glancing up from the newspaper which she was reading.