“But——”
“I know, mamma, that’s what makes it much worse; he never does.”
[CHAPTER XVI]
“I say, Margey, Will tells me you’ve sold the russet harness. I reckon he’s lying, but I couldn’t see it anywhere in the stable.”
Phillip paused in his work of carving a second slice of lamb for John—the morning’s gunning had been more productive of hunger than partridges, although six brace of birds had rewarded them—and looked anxiously at Margaret.
“Will is right, Phil,” she answered evenly. “You know, dear, we’re not quite so well off as we were before father died and it seemed best to get rid of some of the extra things. We didn’t really need the russet harness. Judge Pottinger took that and two heavy work harnesses.”
“But—but——!” Phillip stared in surprise. “We are surely not so poor that we have to sell things like that to the neighbours, Margey! Great Scott, what do they think of us? And, besides, the russet harness was the best of the lot, and a heap sweller than the black leather. Don’t you think so, John?”