“Presently, madam!” he growled; “they ought to have been ready an hour ago. You are bringing up your children to ruinous habits of self-indulgence.”
“Example is better than precept,” Hetty could not help remarking.
“And pray, miss, what do you mean by that?” he asked, turning almost fiercely upon her.
“Surely a man of Mr. Sharp’s talent and erudition can have no difficulty in understanding words so simple,” she replied, with a twinkle of fun in her eye.
“Come, don’t let’s quarrel to-day of all days in the year,” put in her mother good-humoredly. “Here’s John, anyhow,” as the lad came briskly in with a “Merry Christmas to you all!”
“Where have you been, sir, that you are so late to this very late breakfast?” asked his father, ignoring the greeting.
“Round to the grocer’s on the corner, sir.”
“Doing an errand for me,” said Hetty, “and he’s not to be scolded; for if it hadn’t been for him—getting me kindling to hurry up my fire, and assisting in various ways—breakfast would have been later than it is.”
“Where now, Prudence?”
Mrs. Sharp had risen hastily and pushed back her chair.