"What, on Saturday? The very day I need him most? Three loads of wood'll be over from the farm to-night."
Dick had been in the kitchen, and had advanced as far as the door while
Dab was speaking.
"Wood?" he muttered to himself. "Guess I know wot dat means. T'ree load ob wood, an' no fishin'! It's jes' awful!"
"Now, Mrs. Myers," said Ford, "if you knew what a fisherman Dick is! He might bring you home a load of them."
"I am sorry," said Mrs. Myers, with more of firmness and less of smile than they had ever seen on her face before. "I have no objection to the rest of you going. You may do as you please about that, but I must keep Richard at his work."
"I am particularly well pleased to learn that you have no objection to our going," remarked Ford, with extreme politeness, and Dabney added,—
"It does me good too. We'll take Dick with us some other time. Mrs. Myers, if you will have breakfast pretty early I'll be much obliged to you."
Even Almira had never seen Dabney look quite so tall as he did at that moment.