"I've got an engagement," said Ben, not very graciously, and, putting on his hat, he stalked off.
"He's an impudent puppy," said Mr. Huxter to himself. "I wish I had the training of him for a little while. But I must put up with his insults, or lose all hope of help from my sister."
"Come home early, Benjamin," said his mother.
"Oh, you needn't sit up for me. You go to bed so precious early it doesn't give me any evening at all."
Mrs. Oakley followed him with her eyes a little uneasily. While Mr. Oakley was alive Ben kept pretty straight, for he stood somewhat in awe of his stepfather; but since his death he had shown a disposition to have his own way, and his mother's wishes weighed very little with him. She could not help feeling that the boy in whom her dearest hopes centred, and for whom she was willing even to wrong another, manifested very little gratitude for her devotion to him. John, whom she charged with lack of respect, treated her at all times much more respectfully than her own son. But Mrs. Oakley was prejudiced, and would not see this. She shut her eyes alike to John's merits and Ben's faults, and the latter took his own way, spending the evening in the bar-room and billiard saloon, and learning much that he ought not to have learned.
About half-past nine in the evening, when John was studying his lesson in "Xenophon's Anabasis," he heard a low knock at the door. Supposing it to be one of the servants, he said, carelessly, "Come in!"
Looking up, as the door opened, he was not a little surprised at the entrance of his stepmother. With the instincts of a young gentleman, he rose hastily, and, drawing a chair, said:—
"Won't you sit down, Mrs. Oakley?"
"Thank you, John," said his stepmother; "I will sit down a moment. You are studying, I suppose."
"Yes, I was preparing my Greek lesson for to-morrow."