“What's come over the man?” thought the housekeeper. “It's too good to last.”
She was quite correct there. Mr. Holden was naturally crabbed, and fair weather with him was the exception rather than the rule. On the present occasion it did not last many hours.
Abner Holden went to the store, but made other calls on the way, so that he was three hours absent, and did not return till twelve o'clock, the usual dinner hour in his household.
Meanwhile, Mr. Richmond, his caller of the morning, had been to see Sam Nichols, and inspected the horse he had for sale. He did not altogether like its appearance, and, moreover, he was prejudiced against him by what he had heard from Abner Holden, and came away without effecting a purchase.
“I don't think I can do better,” he reflected, “than to take that horse of Holden's. Let me see, it is only half-past ten. I shall have time to go up there this morning. I suppose I might as well settle matters at once.”
Accordingly, eleven o'clock found him again in Abner Holden's yard.
Herbert was out in the yard, engaged in splitting wood.
“Is Mr. Holden at home?” inquired the stranger, pausing.
“No, sir.”
“Will he be at home soon?”