"What do you do?"
"I ferry passengers across the Kennebec, and in that way earn a living for my mother and myself."
"Do you make it pay?"
"I earn from seven to ten dollars a week."
"That is doing very well for a boy of your age. What sort of a boy is Phil? Is he popular?"
"I don't think he is."
"Why?"
"He is your nephew, Mrs. Bancroft, and I don't like to criticize him."
"Never mind that. Speak freely."