“I will see that it don’t happen again,” said the housekeeper, anxious to keep Paul out of the house.
“There is no occasion for that. Mind, I don’t blame your son. Paul here will have nothing else to do, and can drive me as well as not. Besides, he will read to me, and spare my eyes.”
“Frost would be willing to read to you.”
Mrs. Granville smiled.
“I don’t think reading aloud is one of your son’s accomplishments,” she said. “His voice is not exactly musical.”
This was certainly true, for Frost Mercer had a voice deep and croaking, like a frog’s.
“I am sorry you are so prejudiced against my poor boy,” said Mrs. Mercer, mortified and displeased.
“You are a foolish woman, Mrs. Mercer. I am only going to make it easier for Frost, and give this young gentleman something to do. Paul, you may go with Mrs. Mercer, and take possession of your room. Go where you please, till half past twelve, our dinner hour. After dinner, I may take a drive.”
“You’d better get your life insured, then, ma’am,” muttered Mrs. Mercer. “Boys ain’t to be trusted with horses.”
“Is your horse very lively or skittish?” asked Paul.