“Because it isn't a nice name. Papa wouldn't like to have me call him so.”
“Where did you get them clothes? I don't think much of 'em.”
“Nor I,” answered Herbert. “They're not my own clothes. Mr. Ford bought them for me in Chicago.”
“He must like you, to buy you new clothes.”
“No, he doesn't. My own clothes were much nicer. He sold them. He was afraid some one would know me in the others.”
“I wonder what he and marm are talking about so long?”
This question Herbert was unable to answer. He did not guess how nearly this conversation affected him.
No sooner had the two entered the house than Willis Ford began.
“Mrs. Barton,” he said, “I'll tell you now what brought me here.”
“Go ahead,” said the lady, encouragingly.