He read the little note through three times in order fully to take in its contents , and then went around the rest of the day in deep abstraction as though he was trying to decide some very important question . It was with the same expression that he opened the door at home in the evening . His aunt was stirring some oatmeal mush on the stove . `` Is that you , Bert ? '' She spoke sharply . She always spoke sharply , even when not intending it ; it had grown to be a habit . `` Yes 'm , '' said Bertie meekly , as he hung up his cap . `` I s ` pose you 've only got one day more at the store , '' said Mrs. Ross . `` Sampson did n't say anything about keeping you longer , did he ? '' `` No . He said he could n't -- I asked him . '' `` Well , I did n't expect he would . You 'll have a holiday on New Year 's anyhow ; whether you 'll have anything to eat or not is a different question . '' `` I 've an invitation to dinner , '' said Bertie timidly , `` me and William John . It 's from Doctor Forbes 's little girls -- the ones that gave me the mittens . '' He handed her the little note , and Mrs. Ross stooped down and read it by the fitful gleam of light which came from the cracked stove . `` Well , you can please yourself , '' she said as she handed it back , `` but William John could n't go if he had ten invitations . He caught cold coasting yesterday . I told him he would , but he was bound to go , and now he 's laid up for a week . Listen to him barking in the bedroom there . ''
`` Well , then , I wo n't go either , '' said XXXXX with a sigh , it might be of relief , or it might be of disappointment .
Bert Bertie Forbes John Ross Sampson day evening mush week