"He's been making amends for what he did amiss at Liverpool, dad has," said Mrs. Woodburn comfortably.
Mat lifted a dull eye to the blue.
"Yes," he said. "I put a sovereign in the plate. That should square the account, de we, accordin' to my reckonin'."
He pursed his lips firmly, almost defiantly, as he looked the heavens in the face.
A sudden shyness fell on the little group.
Then Boy went to her mother, lifted the old lady's veil, and kissed her.
"Mother," she said.
Mrs. Woodburn took Jim Silver's hand in both of hers, and kneaded it in just the way her daughter would do in moments of deep emotion.
She said nothing, but her eyes were beautiful.
Old Mat swallowed, touched his hat, and looked away.