Philip's mother could scarcely conceal her uneasiness over her son's methods. For so many years she had been trying to keep the peace and conciliate her husband and old Mam' Peachy, only coming out and fighting when a question such as her children's education or Betsy's having the proper school clothes was to be settled, that Philip's open warfare on dirt, ignorance and mismanagement made Elizabeth tremble.
"You don't know the old wretch as well as I do," she cautioned Philip. "There is no form of meanness or wickedness she is not capable of, and her influence over your father is as strong as ever."
"Yes, that is so, Mother, but remember she is very old and feeble and father doesn't really care much how the farm is run. I believe he rather likes to tease Aunt Peachy. Perhaps he is tired of having her boss him just as Old Abe is. My chief objection to the old woman is the way she snoops around. Sometimes she gets on my nerves when I find her right under my feet. Thank goodness, she never comes up here!"
Philip had fitted up a workshop in the attic, that being the one place where neither his father nor Aunt Peachy ever found their way. Here he kept his books and papers, his tools, and his
