"They make me miserable when they are at home," said Mrs Solomon,
speaking almost for the first time.
"Don't see why they should," said Mr Solomon, with his voice sounding
as if his tongue were a little mixed up with his supper. "Why, they
don't come here."
"They might be made such different boys if properly trained."
"They'll come right by and by, but for the present, Grant, you steer
clear of them. They're just like a couple of young slugs, or so much
blight in the garden now."
The supper was ended, and Mrs Solomon, in a very quiet, quick way,
cleared the cloth, and after she had done, placed a Bible on the table,
out of which Mr Solomon read a short chapter, and then shook hands with
me and sent me away happy.
"Good night, my lad!" he said. "It's all strange to you now, and we're
not noisy jolly sort of people, but you're welcome here, and we shall
get on."
"Yes," said Mrs Solomon in a very cold stern way that did not seem at
all inviting or kind. "Come along and I'll show you your bed-room."
I followed her upstairs and into a little room with a sloping ceiling
and a window looking out upon the garden; and at the sight of the neat
little place, smelling of lavender, and with some flowers in a jug upon
the drawers, the depression which kept haunting me was driven away.
Everything looked attractive--the clean white bed and its dainty
hangings, the blue ewer and basin on the washstand, the picture or two
on the wall, and the strips of light-coloured carpet on the white floor,
all made the place cheerful and did something to recompense me for the
trouble of having to leave what seemed to be my regular home, and come
from one who had of late been most fatherly and kind, to people who were
not likely to care for me at all.
"I think there's everything you want," said Mrs Solomon, looking at me
curiously. "Soap and towel, and of course you've got your hair-brush
and things in your box there."
She pointed at the corded box which stood in front of the table.
"If there's anything you want you can ask. I hope you'll be very
clean."
"I'll try to be, ma'am," I said, feeling quite uncomfortable, she looked
at me so coldly.
"You can use those drawers, and your box can go in the back room.
Good-night!"
She went away and shut the door, looking wonderfully clean and prim, but
depressing instead of cheering me; and as soon as she was gone I
uncorded my box, wondering whether I should be able to stay, and wishing
myself back at Isleworth.
I had taken out my clothes and had reached the bottom of my box, anxious
to see whether the treasures I had there in a flat case, consisting of
pinned-out moths and butterflies, were all right and had not been shaken
out of place by the jolting of the cart, when there was a sharp tap at
the door and Mr Solomon came in.