“I—I did not remember to do so.”
“Very careless of you, child. Especially if he gave you cause to suppose he might come here. I don’t like to be taken by surprise by strangers; it is not always convenient.”
Jessy walked along in silence, meek as a lamb.
“What is he?—in any profession, or trade?”
“Trade? Oh, I don’t think he does anything of that kind, Abigail. That branch of the family would be above it, Mrs. Allen said. He has a large income, she says; plenty of money.”
“I take it, then, that he is above us,” reasoned Miss Page.
“Oh dear, yes: in station. Ever so much.”
“Then I’m sure I don’t care to entertain him.”
Miss Page went straight into the best kitchen on arriving at home. Her father sat in the large hearth corner, smoking his pipe. She told him about the stranger, and said she supposed they must ask him to stay over the morrow—Christmas-Day.
“Why shouldn’t we?” asked Mr. Page.