the bread.




CHAPTER IV
MRS. PRESTON


Whenever Godfrey Preston had any difficulty with his father, he always
went to his mother, and from her, right or wrong, he was sure to
obtain sympathy. So in the present instance, failing to receive from
his father that moral support to which he deemed himself entitled, on
entering the house he sought out his mother.

Mrs. Preston, who was rather a spare lady, with thin lips and a sharp,
hatchet-like face, was in her own room. She looked up as Godfrey
entered.

"Well, Godfrey, what's the matter?" she asked, seeing on her son's
face an unmistakable expression of discontent.

"Matter enough, mother. Father's always against me."

"I know it. He appears to forget that you are his son. What is it
now?"

"He came up just as I was thrashing a boy down in the yard."

"What boy?"