"It's my praising Ben that fetched her," said Mr. Huxter, when, being left to himself, he began to reflect upon the cause of his sister's sudden and agreeable change of manners. "I shall have to flatter up the young rascal, I expect, though I'd a good deal rather give him a taste of a horsewhip. So he turns up his nose at me, does he? He forgets the time when he'd have been obliged to beg from house to house but for me. Maybe he won't always be prosperous. The race isn't always to the strong, nor the battle to the swift."
Mr. Huxter did not often read the Bible, and was not aware that he had made a trifling mistake in his quotation. His thoughts were turned into a different and more agreeable channel by the reappearance of his sister, and the announcement that supper was ready. He rose with alacrity, and followed Mrs. Oakley into a room in the rear of the parlor, where an abundant and appetizing meal was spread. Mr. Huxter rubbed his hands with satisfaction,—for in his own household the meals were neither abundant nor inviting,—and took his seat at his sister's table. Ben took the head of the table opposite his mother, and John Oakley sat opposite Mr. Huxter.
"Who is this young man?" asked Mr. Huxter, glancing at John. "I have not had the pleasure of an introduction."
"That is John Oakley," said his stepmother, briefly.
"The son of your lamented husband," said Mr. Huxter.
"Yes. Will you have milk and sugar in your tea?"
"Yes, thank you. I hope you are well, Mr. Oakley."
"Quite well, thank you, sir," said John, wondering who was addressing him.
"I am your stepmother's brother," continued Mr. Huxter, "and that makes me a sort of relation, you know."