"Come here!" said Godfrey, in an imperious tone.

 

Andy turned his head, and paused.

 

"Who are you talking to?" he asked.

 

"To you, to be sure."

 

"What's wanted?"

 

"My mother wants to see you."

 

"All right; I'll come in."

 

"You can go around to the back door," said Godfrey, who seemed to find pleasure in making himself disagreeable.

 

"I know I can, but I don't mean to," said Andy, walking up to the front entrance, where Godfrey was standing¹.

 

"The back door is good enough for you," said the other, offensively.

 

"I shouldn't mind going to it if you hadn't asked me," said Andy. "Just move away, will you?"

 

Godfrey did not stir.

 

"Very well," said Andy, turning; "tell your mother you would not let me in."

 

"Come in, if you want to," said Godfrey, at length, moving aside.

 

"I don't care much about it. I only came to oblige your mother."

 

"Maybe you won't like what she has to say," said Godfrey, with a disagreeable smile.

 

"I'll soon know," said Andy.

 

He entered the house, and Godfrey called upstairs: "Mother, the Burke boy is here."

 

"I'll be down directly," was the answer. "He can sit down."

 

Andy sat down on a chair in the hall, not receiving an invitation to enter the sitting-room², and waited for Mrs. Preston to appear. He wondered a little what she wanted with him, but thought it likely that she had some errand or service in which she wished to employ him. He did not know the extent of her dislike for him and his mother.

 

After a while Mrs. Preston came downstairs. She was dressed in black, but showed no other mark of sorrow for the loss of her husband. Indeed, she was looking in better health than usual.

 

"You can come into the sitting-room," she said, coldly.

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