“I met Bob by the long bluff as I rode home,” she said.
Festing looked up sharply. “Well, I suppose you were bound to meet him before long. What was he doing at the bluff?”
“Waiting for somebody to help him with his wagon,” Helen answered with a laugh. “A wheel was coming off.”
“That was like Bob. He has a rooted objection to helping himself when it means an effort.”
“For all that, you were a friend of his.”
“I'm not his friend now. I've done with the fellow.”
“It's rather awkward,” Helen remarked thoughtfully. “He asked if he might bring his wife over, and although I wasn't very gracious, I could not refuse.”
“Oh, well, it doesn't matter. As I won't have a minute until the sowing is finished, I'll be out when he comes. If he stayed with his work just now, it would be better for him.”
Helen was silent for a moment. Stephen was made of much finer stuff than Bob, but he had not the latter's graceful humor and his curtness jarred.
“There's no reason you should resume your friendship if you don't like,” she said. “All the same, I think you ought to be polite to my guests.”