"No, Roland. On second thought, I don't think it was his place to go for the ball. You should have gone after it yourself."
Oliver smiled to himself with secret satisfaction. He had never thought so well of his step-father before. He even felt better disposed toward Roland.
"Why didn't you ask me politely, Roland?" he said. "Then we should have saved all this trouble."
"Because I am older than you, and you ought to obey me."
"I can't agree with you there," said Oliver composedly.
"Come, boys, I can't allow any quarrelling at the table," said Mr. Kenyon, but still pleasantly. "I don't see why we can't live together in peace and quietness."
"If he will only be like that all the time," thought Oliver, "there will be some pleasurein living with him. I am only afraid it won't last. What a difference there is between his manner to-day and yesterday."
Oliver was destined to be still more astonished when breakfast was over.
He had known for some time that Roland was better supplied with money than himself. In fact, he had been pinched for the want of a little ready money more than once, and whenever he applied to Mr. Kenyon, he was either refused or the favor was grudgingly accorded. To-day, as he rose from the table, Mr. Kenyon asked:
"How are you off for pocket-money, Oliver?"