"I am going to write to my sister this afternoon," said Mr. Huxter. "Perhaps you'd like to send a message."
"Thank you," said John; "I don't think of any message just at present."
"You wouldn't like to send your love to Ben, would you?" asked Mr. Huxter, jocosely.
"I don't think I should," said John, quietly.
"There isn't much love lost between you two, I reckon."
"We are not very good friends," said John, in the same quiet tone.
"I'm sure it's no wonder," said Mrs. Huxter; "Ben was always a troublesome, headstrong boy."
"Let me tell you, Mrs. Huxter," said her husband, sharply, "it doesn't look very well in you to run down your own relations."
Mrs. Huxter thought it prudent not to reply.
"Let me see," said Mr. Huxter, as they rose from the table, "it's Friday,—too late in the week to begin anything. You shall have till Monday morning to look about you, and then we'll see if we can't find something for you to do."