Tom Stanton listened in indignant surprise. He only got four dollars a week, and here was a country boy placed over his head. He was imprudent enough to give expression to his feelings.
“Won't you give me six dollars a week, also?” he said.
“Why should I?”
“Don't I deserve as much as he?”
“Perhaps you do. But I don't give it to Herbert because he earns it, for it is not likely that he will do so at present. But he has no other resources. You have a comfortable home, and are not obliged to pay for your board out of your wages.”
“No, I hope not,” said Tom.
“Therefore you do not need as much as he does. You are not entitled to this explanation, but I give it, nevertheless, that you may know my motives.”
Tom did not reply, feeling that it would be imprudent to do so, but he bent sullenly to his work, by no mans satisfied with the explanation. He began to feel a dislike for his cousin, and determined to injure him, if he could, in the estimation of the firm. It would have been satisfactory if he could have looked down upon him as an inferior, but that was not easy.
“I hope the fellow won't find out the relationship between us,” he said to himself. “He'd be calling me Cousin Tom all the time, and I don't care about owning a cousin that lives in Stanton Street.”
Tom need not have troubled himself. Herbert had no idea of claiming relationship, though, as we know, he was fully aware of its existence.