CHAPTER XIV.
“BREAD AND SALT.”
thought Mrs. Markham looked somewhat displeased.
“We must ask your mother’s permission, Master Rolf;” then, turning to her, “I hope you will allow him to go with us this afternoon,” for, in spite of his rude ways, I felt full of pity for the lonely little boy; he seemed to have no playfellows except poor Judson, who was a low-spirited, overworked young woman. It must have been dreary for him to be in a household of grown-up people, who all voted him a plague and took no trouble to amuse him. Spoilt children are seldom happy ones; and it did not need a second look at Rolf’s pale, sickly face to read the lines of discontent and peevishness.
“I am rather surprised that Miss Fenton should make such a request after her treatment of my boy yesterday,” returned Mrs. Markham, ungraciously. I think if she had dared to contradict Rolf she would not have given her consent, but a sulky look was already clouding his face.
“Never mind about that,” he said, impatiently; “Miss Fenton is going to make the tail for my kite; and I am going out with her this afternoon, and I shall and will go.”
“Master Rolf, that is not the way to answer your mother.”
“You may leave me to rebuke my own child,” she observed, coldly. “Very well, Rolf; you may go, but you need not be so cross about it. I came to see about the children, Miss Fenton; I think it is too hot for them to go on the beach this afternoon.”
“Joyce will wear her sun-bonnet; and there is a nice breeze,” I returned, somewhat ruffled by this interference. I fancy she did it to aggravate me, for there was no fault to be found with the weather, and I knew my mistress always left these things to me.