“You forget, Mr. Tarbox, that it has saved you the money you would have to pay for a new suit for him.”
“It has saved me nothing. I wouldn’t have bought him a new suit. My grandson, Rodney, was goin’ to give him one of his old suits. Now I think of it, I’ll go down and see Mr. Shick and warn him not to make up the suit, tellin’ him that Grant can’t pay for it with my permission.”
“That will be a mean thing to do, Seth Tarbox.”
Mrs. Tarbox always called her husband by his full name when she had occasion to feel displeased with him.
“You and I don’t look on things in the same way, Mrs. T.,” said her husband calmly. “I’ll go and see Mr. Shick at once.”
The tailor shop was still open for business when Mr. Tarbox entered.
“Well, Mr. Tarbox, have you come to pick out a suit for yourself?”
“No, I haven’t. Have you cut out Grant’s suit yet?”
“Yes; it is nearly finished.”
“Then I’m sorry for you. You mustn’t make it up?”