“This is young Grant,” said Mr Solomon.
The woman nodded, and looked me all over, and it seemed as if she took more notice of my shirt and collar than she did of me.
“Sit down, Grant, you must be hungry,” said Mr Solomon; and as soon as we were seated the woman, who, I supposed, was Mrs Solomon, began to cut us both some cold bacon and some bread.
“Master Philip been at you long?” said Mr Solomon, with his mouth full.
“No, sir,” I said; “it all happened in a moment or two.”
“I’m glad you didn’t hit him,” he said. “Eat away, my lad.”
The woman kept on cutting bread, but she was evidently listening intently.
“I’m glad now, sir,” I said; “but he hurt me so, and I was in such a passion that I didn’t think. I didn’t know who he was.”
“Of course not. Go on with your supper.”
“I hope, sir, you don’t think I was going to eat that peach,” I said, for the thought of the affair made my supper seem to choke me.