“Something must be done,” said Nathan, in alarm. “My dear, isn’t there a feather-bed or a mattress in the house?”
“There is a mattress in the spare chamber,” said the lady reluctantly.
“Then, by all means, let us give it to our young friend, that he may have a comfortable night’s rest.”
“That’s just the thing,” said Tom briskly. “I’ll help you bring it in.”
Mrs. Middleton would like to have objected, but there seemed to be no other way of securing quiet, and she tacitly consented. That is, she held her peace while her husband and Tom went to the spare chamber and transferred the cherished mattress to the chamber of the latter.
“There,” said she, “I hope you are satisfied now.”
“Thank you,” said Tom politely. “It is a decided improvement. I shall sleep like a top now.”
“Good-night,” said Nathan, and Tom responded, “Good-night.”
“I’d like to see that boy flogged,” said Mrs. Middleton, addressing her husband later in the privacy of their own apartment. “He’s the most impudent young ruffian I ever saw. He’s turned the house upside down already.”
“Think of the pay, Corinthia,” said her husband soothingly. “Six dollars a week! Why, it’s a dollar a day for you, leaving out Sunday.”