The young fellow bowed silently, and Annie instantly took a dislike to him,
his heavy jaw, long eyes, and low forehead almost hidden under a thick
bang. He sat down cornerwise on a chair, and listened, with a scornful
thrust of his thick lips, to their talk.

Mrs. Munger was not abashed by him. She opened her budget with all her
robust authority, and once more put Annie to shame. When she came to the
question of the invited supper and dance, and having previously committed
Mrs. Wilmington in favour of the general scheme, asked her what she thought
of that part, Mr. Jack Wilmington answered for her--

"I should think you had a right to do what you please about it. It's none
of the hands' business if you don't choose to ask them."

"Yes, that's what any one would think--in the abstract," said Mrs. Munger.

"Now, little boy," said Mrs. Wilmington, with indolent amusement, putting
out a silencing hand in the direction of the young man, "don't you be so
fast. You let your aunty speak for herself. I don't know about not letting
the hands stay to the dance and supper, Mrs. Munger. You know I might feel
'put upon.' I used to be one of the hands myself. Yes, Annie, there was a
time after you went away, and after father died, when I actually fell so
low as to work for an honest living."

"I think I heard, Lyra," said Annie; "but I had forgotten." The fact, in
connection with what had been said, made her still more uncomfortable.

"Well, I didn't work very hard, and I didn't have to work long. But I was
a hand, and there's no use trying to deny it. As Mr. Putney says, he and I
have our record, and we don't have to make any pretences. And the question