Mrs. Mercer, the housekeeper, was seriously annoyed by the appearance
of Paul upon the scene. For years she and her son had had charge of
Mrs. Granville’s affairs, and they had taken care to turn the charge to
profitable account. The wages which each received formed only a part
of this advantage. They bought everything for the house, and levied
tribute from every tradesman as a compensation for turning the trade in
his direction. The result was that Mrs. Granville, without being aware
of it, paid a larger price than any one else for what articles she
purchased, the storekeepers and others compensating themselves in this
way for the percentage they had to pay the housekeeper and her son.
It is for this reason that Mrs. Mercer never cared to have any visitor
in the house. She feared her dishonesty might be found out. She was
especially afraid of any one sent by Mrs. Holbrook, who during her stay
had been bold enough to interfere with the housekeeper.
When she had ushered Paul into his chamber, she went out to the barn,
where she found her son, not at work, but sitting on an old rocking
chair which he had carried out for his convenience, smoking.
“Well, mother, what’s up?” he asked, on Mrs. Mercer’s entrance.
“We have got a visitor,” answered his mother, abruptly.
“We?”
“Well, Mrs. Granville.”
“Who is it--the Holbrook woman?” queried Frost, taking his pipe from
his mouth.
“No, but it’s some one she sent.”
“Man, woman, or child?”
“It’s a boy--about sixteen, he looks.”
“What on earth should she send a boy for?” asked Frost, in surprise.
“To make mischief, I reckon.”
“What can a boy do?”
“I read the woman’s letter. She sends him to take your place.”
“What?” exclaimed Frost, in some alarm.
“Why, she hints that he can drive out the old lady, read to her, and
make himself generally useful.”
“That will make it lighter for me,” said Frost, who was lazy, “if he
does the driving.”
“Yes, but don’t you see what a chance he will have to work himself into
the confidence of the old woman?”
“What sort of a boy does he seem to be?”
“I’ve only seen him five minutes, but I’ve found out that he is
impudent. When I didn’t want to let him in, he actually defied
me--asked by what right I sent away Mrs. Granville’s visitors.”
“So he is inclined to make trouble, is he?”
“Yes.”
“Suppose I give him a thrashing?”
“It won’t do, Frost.”
“You think I am not a match for a boy of sixteen?”
“No, not that; but we must not be imprudent. Better get rid of him by
underhand means.”
“Such as what?”
“I don’t know yet; I will consider. Meantime I thought I would come
out and put you on your guard.”
“All right, mother. I guess we can checkmate the young meddler. Is he
in the house?”
“Yes; I’ve put him in the small room.”
“Next to mine?”
“Yes.”
“All right; I’ll look him over at dinner time.”
In this, however, Frost counted without his host. Mrs. Granville was
accustomed to have her meals brought up to her own room. Today she
expressed the wish that Paul should dine with her. This displeased the
housekeeper.
“I suppose Frost and I are not good enough company for the young man,”
she said, sulkily.
“My good Mercer, you are much mistaken,” said Mrs. Granville,
soothingly. “I thought he would be company for me; besides, it will
give me a chance to ask him some questions about Louisa.”
“Very well, ma’am,” said the housekeeper, but she didn’t look satisfied.
“What do you think, Frost?” she said, as she went downstairs. “Master
Paul--that’s his name--is to dine with the old woman upstairs. I
suppose he is too good to eat with us.”
“I don’t know as I care much, mother; I don’t want his company.”
“Nor I, for the matter of that, but it’s putting this young popinjay
over our heads. They’ll be getting thick together, and the boy will be
pulling our noses out of joint.”
“If he does, I’ll pull his out of joint,” muttered Frost.
“Bide your time, Frost. We’ll put our heads together and see if we
can’t send him packing.”
After dinner Mrs. Granville expressed a desire, as it was a fine day,
to go out for a drive.
“I shall be very happy to drive you,” said Paul, cheerfully.
“You are sure you can drive?” asked the old lady, anxiously.
“I should smile,” Paul was about to reply, when it occurred to him that
this form of expression did not sound exactly proper. “I am used to
driving, ma’am,” he said, instead.
“Then about two o’clock you may go out to the barn and ask Frost to
harness up.”
“O, I’ll do that, Mrs. Granville.”
When he went out to the barn, he found Frost Mercer sitting at his
ease, engaged at his favorite business of smoking a pipe.
“I suppose you are Frost,” he said, with a smile.
“I am Mr. Mercer,” answered Frost, in a forbidding tone.
“I beg your pardon. I will call you Mr. Mercer, if you prefer it. I am
Paul Parton.”
“I don’t know as that concerns me,” said Frost, staring at Paul in an
unfriendly manner.
“It is just as well you should know my name, as I am living in the
house,” said Paul, independently. “Mrs. Granville wishes me to drive
her out If you will show me what carriage she uses and so forth, I will
harness up.”
This was, on the whole, satisfactory to Frost, as he would not have the
trouble of harnessing.
“There’s the carriage,” he said, “and there’s the harness. You can find
the horses if you use your eyes.”
“Thank you; you are very obliging,” said Paul, with a little touch of
sarcasm.
“The old lady doesn’t seem to value her neck,” observed Frost.
“What makes you think so?”
“In letting you drive her.”
“O, that’s it. I think I shall bring her back safe.”
“I don’t know about that. You’re a city boy, ain’t you?”
“Yes.”
“What chance have you had to learn about horses?”
“I know a little about them.”
“Well, I wash my hands of it. If the team is upset, Mrs. Granville will
have herself to blame for it.”
“I don’t think you need to worry,” said Paul. “I’ll promise to bring
her back safe.”
He set to work to harness the horses. Frost surveyed him with critical
eyes, but he could see no evidence of ignorance on Paul’s part. He did
his work quickly and skillfully, and then, opening wide the barn doors,
led the horses out. Then he jumped into the carriage and was about to
drive to the house.
“Come back and shut the barn doors!” called out Frost from his rocking
chair.
Paul turned and looked back.
“I don’t think it will do you any harm to do that yourself,” he said,
“if you can spare the time from smoking.”
“Hey, what’s that?” demanded Frost, angrily.
“I don’t think it will be necessary to repeat it,” said Paul, coolly;
“you heard me.”
“None of yer sass, boy!” said Frost, wrathfully.
Paul did not deign to answer him. He saw that Frost did not intend to
be pleased with anything he did, and that there was no use in trying to
conciliate.
“I hate that boy!” reflected Frost, following Paul with a venomous
expression. “My mother is perfectly right. He’s a dangerous visitor. We
must get rid of him one way or another.”
Paul drove around to the front of the house and found Mrs. Granville
ready at the door--with the housekeeper at her side.
“I do hope you won’t meet with an accident,” said Mrs. Mercer with an
air of deep solicitude. “Frost is ready to drive you. It will be safer.”
“Thank you, my good Mercer, but Paul tells me he understands driving.”
“I shouldn’t mind if she broke her neck,” muttered the housekeeper,
following the carriage with her eyes, “if I only knew it was all right
now in her will.”