"If he was twice the trouble I'd be glad to have him here."
"He is easy to get along with."
"Surely."
"Yet his stepmother drove him from his father's house."
"She's a wicked trollop, then!" said Hannah,
in a deep, stern voice. "I'd like to get
hold of her, I would."
"What would you do to her?" asked Mr.
Jennings, smiling.
"I'd give her a good shaking," answered Hannah.
"I believe you would, Hannah," said Mr.
Jennings, amused. "On the whole, I think she
had better keep out of your clutches. Still,
but for her we would never have met with Carl.
What is his father's loss is our gain."
"What a poor, weak man his father must
be," said Hannah, contemptuously, "to let a
woman like her turn him against his own flesh
and blood!"
"I agree with you, Hannah. I hope some
time he may see his mistake."
Carl kept on his way to the hotel. It was
summer and Mr. Thorndike was sitting on the
piazza smoking a cigar. To him Carl delivered
the note.
"It's all right!" he said, rapidly glancing
it over. "You may tell Mr. Jennings," and
here he gave an answer to the question asked
in the letter.
"Yes, sir, I will remember."
"Won't you sit down and keep me company
a little while?" asked Thorndike, who was
sociably inclined.
"Thank you, sir," and Carl sat down in a
chair beside him.
"Will you have a cigar?"
"No, thank you, sir. I don't smoke."
"That is where you are sensible. I began
to smoke at fourteen, and now I find it hard
to break off. My doctor tells me it is hurting
me, but the chains of habit are strong.
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