“I guess he won't be too proud to sleep in the garret,” said Mr. Holden. “Shall you?” he continued, turning to Herbert.
“Put me where you please,” said Herbert, coldly.
“Then it shall be the garret. You can take your trunk up now. Mrs. Bickford will show you the way.”
“It's too heavy for you, Herbert,” said the housekeeper; “I will help you.”
“Oh, he can carry it alone,” said Abner Holden. “He isn't a baby.”
“I'd rather help him,” said the housekeeper, taking one handle of the trunk. “You go first, Herbert, You're young and spry, and can go faster than I.”
On the second landing Herbert saw the little bedroom in which the housekeeper wanted to put him. It was plainly furnished, but it was light and cheerful, and he was sorry he was not to have it.
“You could have had that bedroom just as well as not,” said Mrs. Bickford. “It's never used. But Mr. Holden's rather contrary, and as hard to turn as a—”
“A mule?” suggested Herbert, laughing.
“It's pretty much so,” said the housekeeper, joining in the laugh.