Harry was afraid he would be expected to occupy the same room with Joel, in which case he could hope for no privacy, and would be unable to conceal his money, which he had little doubt his guardian intended to secure, either by fair means or foul. It chanced, however, that Joel slept in a small bedroom opening out of his parents’ chamber. So Harry was assigned an attic room, in the end of the house, the sides sloping down to the eaves. It was inferior to the chambers on the second floor, but our hero was not disposed to complain. He valued solitude more than superior finish.
Harry’s suspicion was roused by the circumstance that his guardian did not again refer to his money, nor did he manifest any disappointment at his ward’s declining to intrust him with it.
During the evening, Joel brought out a backgammon board, and proposed to Harry to play. If there would have been anything to read Harry would have preferred entertaining himself in that way, but Mr. Fox didn’t appear to be literary. There were a few books in the house, but they were not of an attractive character.
Partly in backgammon, partly in conversation with the son and heir of the Foxes, the time passed till half-past eight o’clock.
“Joel, you can go to bed,” said his mother. “It is half-past eight.”
Joel yawned, and interposed no objection.
“You may as well go, too, Harry,” said Mrs. Fox.
“I am ready to go to bed,” said Harry.
In fact, he felt rather sleepy, and anticipated little pleasure in sitting up in the far from exciting company of Mr. and Mrs. Fox.
“Joel!” said his mother, “take this candle and show Harry upstairs in the attic chamber.”