“That is a compliment to you, Grant,” said the broker, smiling.
“I think,” he said to the prim, elderly lady who presided over the household, acting as housekeeper, “Herbert will be the better for having a boy in the house.”
“I don't know about that,” said Mrs. Estabrook, stiffly. “When he came into the house he had mud on his clothes. He never did that till this boy came.”
“I won't complain of that, if his health is improved.”
Mrs. Estabrook, who was a poor relation of Herbert's mother, pursed up her mouth, but did not reply. In her eyes, it was more important that a boy should keep his clothes whole and clean than to have color in his cheeks, and health in his frame.
“I hope that boy won't stay here long,” she thought, referring, of course, to Grant. “He'll quite spoil Herbert by making him rough and careless of his appearance.”
“Well, Herbert, and how do you like Grant?” asked Mr. Reynolds, as his son was bidding him good-night before going to bed.
“I am so glad you brought him here, papa. I shall have good times now. You'll let him stay all the time, won't you?”
“I'll see about it, Herbert,” answered his father, smiling.