"You can't afford it!" she had declared. "We're only working people! Don't I slave from dawn to dusk over the housework and poultry, doing without a servant to save money? And you—why, you'd give the coat off your back, I believe, if anyone asked you for it! What's going to become of us in our old age if we don't put by now? Oh, we ought to trust Providence a bit, ought we? What cant! 'Look-out for yourself' is my motto, and it will take some beating! Don't talk to me!"
William Brown had not done so, but had allowed her to rage on. Billy was thinking how sad and ashamed he had looked, when he heard raised voices in the next room. Evidently a quarrel was taking place. He sat up in bed and listened, then, unable to make out what was being said, slipped out of bed and opened the door. Only one voice was speaking now—Granny's, shrill and excited.
"You kept it a secret from me to avoid unpleasantness?" it cried. "A fine excuse! And now you won't even tell me how much you sent her! It's too bad—too bad! And I had to admit to the boy you kept me in the dark! A nice position to have put your wife in! Shame on you, William Brown!"
"The shame's on you who were always so against the boy's father!—on you who begrudged the little money I spent on bringing him up and educating him!" Billy heard his grandfather retort. "You were never fair to my son—your own daughter knows it!"
Billy shut the door heavily and went back to bed. He had suddenly remembered that he ought not to be listening. Oh, how he wished he had not mentioned his grandfather's secret! But he had not known it was a secret till Mrs. Brown's flushed face and frowning brows had enlightened him.
The lightning was coming in only occasional flashes now, and the thunder had nearly stopped. By-and-by the angry voices in the next room ceased. Still Billy could not sleep. Though no longer frightened he could not quiet his nerves; he felt them throbbing all over him, even to his finger-tips. At last came dawn—a wintry dawn, chill and mournful, and it was time to rise.
The little boy was nearly dressed when Mrs. Brown, looking much as usual, opened the door and popped her head in.
"Oh, you're getting up!" she said. "Your grandfather's been out this long while, and'll be in to breakfast soon. Hurry! I want you to feed the fowls, and—but how white you look! Didn't you sleep again?"
"No," Billy admitted, "I couldn't—I was too unhappy. Oh, Granny, I heard you and Grandfer quarrelling," and his voice choked. "My head's dizzy," he faltered; "I feel—"
The room seemed to be swimming about him. He saw everything through a mist. The mist thickened and closed in around him, and had not Mrs. Brown rushed into the room and caught him as he staggered, he would have fallen, unconscious, upon the floor.