“I told you I didn’t like that fellow.”
“I know it.”
“Yet you encourage him to intrude his unwelcome company upon us. You were talking with him all breakfast-time.”
“Well,” answered Tom, with spirit, “why shouldn’t I? He was very pleasant and social, and it was only polite to answer him when he spoke to me.”
“You could show by your manner that you don’t relish his society,” growled Burnett.
“But I do like his society,” said Tom, with spirit. “You can’t expect me to feel just as you do toward everybody. If you don’t like him, you have a right to feel as you do. You have no right to order me to dislike him, too.”
Percy Burnett was rather surprised and disconcerted by Tom’s unexpected independence. He had taken him for a boy who would yield readily to his guidance, and he was not disposed even now to give up the attempt to control him.
“He is an uneducated, low fellow!” he growled. “I can’t understand what pleasure you can find in such company. I don’t believe he can read or write.”
“Yes, he can,” said Tom, “but that is about the extent of his education.”
“Who told you that?”