“It's likely the boy is tired.”
“What's he done to make him tired, I should like to know? Ridden thirty miles, and eaten a good dinner!”
“Which I paid for myself,” said Herbert.
“What if you did?” said Abner Holden, turning to him. “I suppose you'll eat supper at my expense, and you'd better do something, first, to earn it.”
“That I am willing to do.”
“Then go out to the woodpile without any more palavering.”
“Mr. Holden,” said the housekeeper, seriously, after Herbert had gone out, “if you want to keep that boy, I think you had better be careful how you treat him.”
“Why do you say that?” demanded Abner, eying her sharply. “Has he been saying anything to you about me?”
“No.”
“Then why did you say that?”