“Nonsense, Lucinda!” said Colonel Ross, who was not a fool. “It was a boyish misunderstanding.”
“You may call it that,” retorted Mrs. Ross, raising her voice. “I call it a high-handed outrage. The boy ought to be arrested. Are you going to do anything about it, Philander Ross?”
Mrs. Ross generally addressed her husband by his Christian name when she was angry with him.
“I will tell you what I will do, Lucinda. I will see Mead, and tell him that a boy who acts in that way is not fit to drive for him.”
“That’s right, father. Make him discharge Harry. Then he’ll have to go to the poorhouse, or beg.”
“And a very suitable punishment for him,” said Mrs. Ross, approvingly.
“I don’t quite like to take the boy’s means of living away from him,” said Colonel Ross, who was by no means as unfeeling as his wife and son. “That would make his mother suffer, and she has been guilty of no crime.”
“She will uphold him in his iniquity, you may rest assured, Mr. Ross,” said his wife, nodding emphatically. “If she had brought up the boy to be respectful to his superiors this would not have happened.”
“He won’t be able to pay damages if he loses his place,” said Colonel Ross.
“I don’t care. I want him discharged from his situation.”