“Yes, that’s Joseph’s nephew,” said my aunt tartly, “and a nice boy he is.”
“You mean a nasty one,” I said to myself, as I coloured up, “but you needn’t have told a stranger.”
“Yes,” said Uncle Joseph, “he is a very nice boy, Richard, and I’m very proud of him.”
My aunt gave a very loud sniff.
“Suppose we shake hands then, Nathaniel,” said the stranger, whom I immediately guessed to be my Aunt Sophia’s brother Richard, who was a learned man and a doctor, I had heard.
He seemed to order me to shake hands with him, and I went up and held out mine, gazing full in his dark eyes, and wondering how much he knew.
“Well done, youngster,” he said, giving my hand a squeeze that hurt me ever so, but I would not flinch. “I like to see a boy able to look one full in the face.”
“Oh! he has impudence enough for anything,” said my aunt.
“Oh! has he?” said our visitor smiling. “Well, I would rather see a boy impudent than a milksop.”
“Nat was never impudent to me,” said my uncle, speaking up for me in a way that made my aunt stare.