While they sat there a heavy knock came at the door.  Upon Matilda venturing to open the same a big man pushed his way inside, and started talking roughly in a loud, almost abusive tone.

Thad recognized him as a certain well-to-do farmer and dairyman who had an unenviable reputation as a cruel taskmaster with his hired help.  He was also known to be exceedingly harsh in his treatment of any with whom he had dealings, who chanced to be unable to meet their obligations to the minute.  Because he had been able to accumulate his “pile,” Mr. Abel Bernard seemed to believe everyone should be capable of doing the same.  If they could not afford a thing they ought to do without it.  He never took excuses from anyone.  It was all business with Abel—–­pay up or quit, was his daily motto.

Hugh, listening, quickly determined that a little more fresh trouble had dropped down upon the poor head of Matilda.  She had been taking a quart of milk a day from Farmer Bernard, and the bill had run two months and more now.  He shoved an account at her in a most savage manner, Thad thought, and the boy felt as if he could have kicked the grim dairyman with rare good pleasure to settle the account.

As for Hugh, if he had chanced to have the money with him just then he would only too gladly have loaned or given it to Matilda, so that she might get rid of the abusive farmer, whose very tone was harsh and rasping.

“It’s my rule never to let anybody get away with more than a second month’s milk,” the big man was saying in that loud, abusive voice of his.  “You asked me to let the account go on another spell when I handed you the same before, and now you tell me you haven’t got the five dollars it calls for because some old tramp of a brother that you haven’t seen for twenty years has dropped down on you, and had to be taken care of.  Well, Mrs. Hosmer, I’m not helping to run a hospital, let me tell you; I’ve got all I can do to look after my own folks.  You mustn’t expect me to deliver you any more milk till you can pay this; and I hope you’ll get the cash soon, too, because I’ve some accounts of my own I want to settle.”

Matilda was near tears, for such a scene as this frightened her.  Poor old Mr. Hosmer tried to bustle forward and enter into the conversation; but the husky dairyman just brushed him aside as though he were no more than a child.

“I’m not talking to you about it, Mr. Hosmer,” he went on to say, almost brutally; “it’s your wife I do business with.  I’ll be looking to her to settle my account.  And if what I hear honest folks a-sayin’ is near true, the sooner she gets rid of her disreputable brother the better for all concerned.”

Matilda’s eyes flashed.

“You need not add insult to injury, Mr. Bernard,” she flashed, showing a little touch of spirit that Hugh hardly believed she possessed.  “He is the only living tie to bind me with my long past childhood.  We were once very fond of each other; and now that poor Luther has fallen sick, and fears he has not long to live, I mean to stand by him, no matter how people talk.”