“No, Amy,” said Carroll, “he will most certainly not go to drive with us. There are times when you girls must leave the boy to me, and this is one of them.” He stopped and kissed his wife's appealing face, and went out. Then the carriage rolled swiftly round the curve of drive.
“He will whip him,” said Anna to Mrs. Carroll, who looked at her with a certain defiance.
“Well,” said she, “if he does, I suppose it will be for his good. A man, of course, knows how to manage a boy better than a woman, because he has been a boy himself. You know you and I never were boys, Anna.”
“I know that, Amy,” said Anna, quite seriously, “and I am willing to admit that a man may know better how to deal with a boy than a woman does, but I must confess that when I think of Arthur punishing Eddy for the faults he may have—”
“May have what?” demanded Mrs. Carroll, quite sharply for her.
“May have inherited from Arthur,” declared Anna, boldly, with soft eyes of challenge upon her sister-in-law.
“Eddy has no faults worth mentioning,” responded Mrs. Carroll, seeming to enlarge with a sort of fluffy fury like an angry bird; “and the idea of your saying he inherits them from his father. You know as well as I do, Anna, what Arthur is.”
“I knew Arthur before you ever did,” said Anna, apologetically. “Don't get excited, dear.”
“I am not excited, but I do wonder at your speaking after such a fashion when we don't know what may have happened to the dear boy. Of course Arthur will not punish him if he is shot or anything.”
“Of course not.”