It was the
secret knowledge of the deep wrong which he had done to the Rushtons
that now made him unwilling to oppress him further.
"It seems to me," he said, "you are making too much of this matter. It
is only a boyish quarrel."
"A boyish quarrel!" retorted Mrs. Davis, indignantly. "You have a
singular way of standing by your son, Mr. Davis. A low fellow insults
and abuses him, and you exert yourself to mate excuses for him."
"You misapprehend me, my dear."
"Don't 'my dear' me," said the exasperated lady. "I thought you would be
as angry as I am, but you seem to take the whole thing very coolly, upon
my word!"
Mrs. Davis had a sharp temper and a sharp tongue, and her husband stood
considerably in awe of both. He had more than once been compelled to
yield to them, and he saw that he must make some concession to order to
keep the peace.
"Well, what do you want me to do?" he asked.
"Want you to do! I should think that was plain enough."
"I will send for the boy and reprimand him."
"Reprimand him!" repeated the lady, contemptuously. "And what do you
think he will care for that?"
"More than you think, perhaps."
"Stuff and nonsense! He'll be insulting Halbert again to-morrow."
"I am not so sure that Halbert is not in fault in some way."
"Of course, you are ready to side with a stranger against your own son.
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