“Disappointed to see Guy? Oh, no! no!”
“You know what I mean,” returned the deacon, with some asperity.
“I don’t think I do.”
“I mean, of course, that it can’t be pleasant to have your son thrown on your hands when you thought he was earnin’ his livin’.”
“I think I must ask you to explain yourself.”
“If you wasn’t a minister, I might say that you seem a little dense,” said the deacon, impatiently. “However, I feel for you. You can’t afford to have a big boy eatin’ you out of house and home. I can find work for him on my farm, though, of course, I shouldn’t feel justified in payin’ much.”
“You are considerate, deacon,” said Mr. Fenwick, with a slight smile, “and perhaps I have misled you. Guy is not out of employment.”
“No?” said the deacon, opening his eyes in surprise. “Do you mean to say that he has a position?”
“He is in the employ of Mr. Saunders of Bombay.”
“How can that be?”