“Certainly; it will give me great pleasure to oblige you. If you have anything to send him, I will carry it with pleasure.”
“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I will ask you to carry a pair of stockings I have just footed for him. And will you tell him to be sure to change his stockings if he gets his feet wet?”
“I will, with pleasure, carry any message. But why not write a note and send by me?”
“I think I will, if you will be so kind as to carry it.”
“Oh, don’t mention it! I hope, Mrs. Raymond you will regard me as a near friend. If you will write the letter in the course of the day, I will send James round after supper to get it.”
“I am afraid it will be too much trouble for your son.”
“Not at all, not at all,” said Squire Turner, cordially.
Mrs. Raymond parted from the squire, feeling more favorably disposed towards him than ever before. To confess the truth, he had never been much of a favorite of hers. His cold, disagreeable manners, and his general reputation as a hard, close-fisted man, had repelled not only her, but people generally. But now he seemed wonderfully thawed out. He was actually genial and cordial, and the manner in which he had entered into her feelings about Harry, and his kind offer to go to the city on a day he had not intended, produced a strong impression upon her mind.
“I didn’t think Squire Turner could be so kind,” she said to herself. “I have done him injustice. He has a good heart, after all.”