Never that he could remember had Louie shown him any such mark of favour.
Next day David was sent down with the donkey-cart to Clough End to bring up some weekly stores for the family, Hannah specially charging him to call at the post-office and inquire for letters.

He started about nine o'clock, and the twelve o'clock dinner passed by without his reappearance.
When she had finished her supply of meat and suet-pudding, after a meal during which no one of the three persons at table had uttered a word, Louie abruptly pushed her plate back again towards Hannah.
'David!' was all she said.
'Mind your manners, miss,' said Hannah, angrily.

'Them as cooms late gets nowt.' And, getting up, she cleared the table and put the food away with even greater rapidity than usual.

The kitchen was no sooner quite clear than the donkey-cart was heard outside, and David appeared, crimsoned with heat, and panting from the long tug uphill, through which he had just dragged the donkey.
He carried a letter, which he put down on the table.

Then he looked round the kitchen.
'Aunt's put t' dinner away,' said Louie, shortly, ''cos yo came late.' David's expression changed.