“That is like you, Owen,” she said. “Do what is right without hope of fee or reward. I am afraid that the old man does not give you much of either. What salary are you getting?”
“I have received nothing as yet; nor has Mr Fluke promised me a salary,” answered Owen. “I conclude that he considers it sufficient to afford me board and lodging, and to teach me the business. I should not think of asking for more.”
“And you’ll not get it until you do,” observed Mrs Kezia. “I’ll see about that one of these days.”
“Pray do not speak to Mr Fluke,” exclaimed Owen, earnestly; “I am perfectly content, and I am sure that I ought not to think of asking for a salary. If he is good enough to pay for the clothes you have ordered, I shall be more than satisfied, even were I to work even harder than I do.”
Mr Fluke, however, grumbled, and looked quite angry at Owen, when he appeared in his new suit. Mrs Kezia had been insisting, in her usual style, that the boy required new shoes, a hat, and underclothing.
“You’ll be the ruin of me with your extravagant notions, Kezia,” exclaimed Mr Fluke; “you’ll spoil the boy. How can you ever expect him to learn economy?”
He, notwithstanding, gave Mrs Kezia the sum she demanded.
Had it not been for her, Owen would probably have had to wear his clothes into rags. Mr Fluke would certainly not have remarked their tattered condition.
Notwithstanding all Kezia’s care, however, Owen’s health did not mend. Months went by, he was kept as hard at work as ever.
Kezia expostulated. At last Mr Fluke agreed to give him some work in the open air.