第8章

Paul's companions dropped their spoons in astonishment at his daring, and Mrs. Mudge let fall a kettle she was removing from the fire, in sheer amazement.

"What did you ask for?" she inquired, as if to make sure that her ears did not deceive her.

"A little butter," repeated Paul, unconscious of the great presumption of which he had been guilty.

"You want butter, do you?" repeated Mr. Mudge.

"Perhaps you'd like a slice of beefsteak and a piece of plum-pudding too, wouldn't you?"

"I should very much," said Paul, resolved to tell the truth, although he now began to perceive the sarcasm in his landlady's tone.

"There isn't anything more you would like, is there?" inquired the lady, with mock politeness.

"No, ma'am," returned Paul after a pause, "I believe not, to-day."

"Very moderate, upon my word," exclaimed Mrs. Mudge, giving vent at length to her pent-up indignation. "You'll be contented with butter and roast beef and plum-pudding! A mighty fine gentleman, to be sure. But you won't get them here, I'll be bound."

"So will I," thought Aunt Lucy.

"If you ain't satisfied with what I give you," pursued Mrs. Mudge, "you'd better go somewhere else. You can put up at some of the great hotels. Butter, forsooth!"

Having thus given expression to her feelings, she left the room, and Paul was left to finish his dinner with the best appetite he could command. He was conscious that he had offended Mrs. Mudge, but the thoughts of his recent great sorrow swallowed up all minor annoyances, so that the words of his estimable landlady were forgotten almost as soon as they were uttered. He felt that he must henceforth look for far different treatment from that to which he had been accustomed during his father's lifetime.

His thoughts were interrupted in a manner somewhat ludicrous, by the crazy girl who sat next to him coolly appropriating to herself his bowl of soup, having already disposed of her own.

"Look," said Aunt Lucy, quickly, calling Paul's attention, "you are losing your dinner."

"Never mind," said Paul, amused in spite of his sadness, "she is quite welcome to it if she likes it; I can't eat it."

So the dinner began and ended. It was very brief and simple, occupying less than ten minutes, and comprising only one course--unless the soup was considered the first course, and the bread the second. Paul left the table as hungry as he came to it. Aunt Lucy's appetite had become accustomed to the Mudge diet, and she wisely ate what was set before her, knowing that there was no hope of anything better.

About an hour after dinner Ben Newcome came to the door of the Poor House and inquired for Paul.

Mrs. Mudge was in one of her crusty moods.

"You can't see him," said she.

"And why not?" said Ben, resolutely.

"Because he's busy."

"You'd better let me see him," said Ben, sturdily.

"I should like to know what's going to happen if I don't," said Mrs. Mudge, with wrathful eyes, and arms akimbo.

"I shall go home and report to my father," said Ben, coolly.

"Who is your father?" asked Mrs. Mudge, for she did not recognize her visitor.

"My father's name is Newcome--Squire Newcome, some call him."

Now it so happened that Squire Newcome was Chairman of the Overseers of the Poor, and in that capacity might remove Mr. Mudge from office if he pleased. Accordingly Mrs.

Mudge softened down at once, on learning that Ben was his son.

"Oh," said she, "I didn't know who it was.

I thought it might be some idle boy from the village who would only take Paul from his work, but if you have a message from your father----"

This she said to ascertain whether he really had any message or not, but Ben, who had in fact come without his father's knowledge, only bowed, and said, in a patronizing manner, "I accept your apology, Mrs. Mudge.

Will you have the goodness to send Paul out?"

"Won't you step in?" asked Mrs. Mudge with unusual politeness.

"No, I believe not."

Paul was accordingly sent out.

He was very glad to meet his schoolmate and playfellow, Ben, who by his gayety, spiced though it was with roguery, had made himself a general favorite in school.

"I say, Paul," said Ben, "I'm sorry to find you in such a place."

"It isn't very pleasant," said Paul, rather soberly.

"And that woman--Mrs. Mudge--she looks as if she might be a regular spitfire, isn't she?"

"Rather so."

"I only wish the old gentleman--meaning of course, the Squire--would take you to live with me. I want a fellow to play with. But I say, Paul, go and get your hat, and we'll go out for a walk."

"I don't know what Mrs. Mudge will say," said Paul, who had just come from turning the handle of a churn.

"Just call Mrs. Mudge, and I'll manage it."

Mrs. Mudge being summoned, made her appearance at the door.

"I presume, ma'am," said Ben, confidently, "you will have no objection to Paul's taking a walk with me while I deliver the message I am entrusted with."

"Certainly," said Mrs. Mudge, rather unwillingly, but not venturing to refuse.

"It takes me to come it over the old lady," said Ben, when they were out of hearing.

"Now, we'll go a fishing."