"That's the way I started," said the Colonel, nodding his head with vast approval. "And it's a good thing for a young fellow to know what plain and simple living is."
"Indeed, Robert, if you really think so, would n't it have been better to bring him up to have some experience of it before now?" cried Mrs. Halket.
"Am I such a tender little plant?" asked Floyd reproachfully. "I feel as if I had had some knocking round in my life."
"Oh, I know; boys will be boys, of course, and at school and college it was all well enough; I suppose you did knock round," said his grandmother with spirit. "And it was good for you. And though, as you and your grandfather know, I don't want you to go into the mills, I do not stand in the way, since your grandfather says it is necessary. But it is n't necessary for you to live—to live—oh, I don't know how—"
"And just because you don't know how, you think it's sure to be horrible," Floyd laughed.
"No, but in squalor and bareness and on poor food and with rough, coarse people; it's all wrong, Floyd; you don't know what you're doing."
"Now, listen," said Floyd, "and while you're listening sit up to the table like a good girl and pretend you like our food. I picked out my room because it was in the most attractive looking house in all New Rome, with a nice little lawn and garden and peach-tree in front, the best kept-up little place that I saw. It's a small room, of course, but I'll be comfortable enough in it. As for the rough, coarse people,—there are just two people in the house,—mother and daughter,—and I broke in on them while the girl was giving her mother a birthday supper and entertaining her young man. And he was a good fellow, too."
"That sounds better," conceded Mrs. Halket. "I'm glad you were so sensible. But anyway I shall go out and
