“And how is the old witch?”
“Ah, poor, prejudiced old soul, much the same as ever. I’m afraid she is beyond alteration, but her grandson was there.”
“Humph! And he’s beyond mending too,” said Uncle Richard gravely.
“Ah, there’s the rub,” said the Vicar, crossing his legs, and clasping his hands about the upper knee. “They are both of human flesh, but one is young and green, the other old and dry. I can be satisfied that I am helpless over the old woman, but I’m very uneasy about that boy.”
“Halloo! He was not seriously hurt over the explosion?”
“Not a bit.”
“But he thinks it was my doing to spite him, uncle, and he says he will serve me out.”
“A young dog!” cried the Vicar. “I’ll talk to him again.”
“Labour in vain,” said Uncle Richard. “As you know, I tried over and over again to make something of him, but he would not stay. He hates work. Wild as one of the rabbits he poaches.”
“But we tame rabbits, Brandon, and I don’t like seeing that boy gradually go from bad to worse.”