“You don’t suppose my grandfather would grudge a few pounds of sugar in such a year as this? Why, there has been no such season since I can remember, at least we have never made so much.”
“No, I did not suppose that. It would not be like him.”
“And there was no time lost; I was helped rather than hindered. And anybody would do the same in any sugar-place in the country, only—” Davie hesitated.
“It was not the sugar I thought of, it was the look that came over your face when you thought your grandfather was coming, that accused you. You accused yourself, Davie.”
After a moment’s silence, Davie said:
“My grandfather is not just like other folks in all things, and there were two or three here that he does not like—and he might have spoken hastily—being taken by surprise, and—I didn’t like the thought of it.”
The hesitation was longer this time.
“The chances are, he would—have given me—a blowing up, and that is not so pleasant before folks.”
“Well,” said the minister again.
“Well, he might have been uneasy at the sight of Hooker and Piatt, and he might have thought I was not to be trusted. And then it would have vexed grannie and them all. My grandfather is queer about some things—I mean he is an old man, and has had trouble in his life, with more ahead, if some folks get their way and so I would have been sorry to see him just then.”