"May I ask how my room is going to be used?" said John, who wanted to be sure whether his stepmother had any motive for the change except hostility to himself.
"No, you may not ask," she said, angrily; "or if you do, you need not expect any answer. And now I will thank you to leave the room, as I have something else to do besides answering impertinent questions."
There was nothing more to say, and John left the room.
"Well, Master John," said Jane, who had waited till his return, "what will I do?"
"You may move the things upstairs, Jane," said John.
"It's a shame," said Jane, warmly.
"Never mind, Jane," said John. "I don't like it much myself, but I dare say it'll all come out right after a while. I'll help you with that trunk. It's rather heavy to carry alone."
"Thank you, Master John. Ben wouldn't offer to help if he saw me breakin' my back under it. It's easy to see which is the gentleman."
The room to which John's things were removed was uncarpeted, the floor being painted yellow. It had been used during Squire Oakley's life by a boy who was employed to run errands, but who had been dismissed by Mrs. Oakley, who was disposed to be economical and save his wages. The bed was a common cot bedstead, comfortable indeed, but of course quite inferior to the neat French bed in which John had been accustomed to sleep. There was a plain pine table and bureau, in which John stored his things. There was a small cracked mirror, and a wash-stand with the paint rubbed off in spots. Altogether it was hardly suitable for a gentleman's son to sleep in. John, however, was not proud, and would not have minded if there had not been malice on the part of his stepmother. He had scarcely got moved when a step was heard on the attic stairs, and Ben came up to enjoy the sight of John's humiliation.