"Well, Tom, my boy," said Mr. Keane, holding out his hand, "the bargain's sealed. You belong to me now."
"Has Uncle Josh—has Aunt Hepsy said I might?" he said breathlessly. "Oh, it is too good to be true!"
"True enough," said Mr. Keane, laughing at the lad's manner.—"Please assure him of it, Mr. Goldthwaite."
Mr. Goldthwaite laid his hand on the lad's shoulder, and bent his grave eyes on his beaming face. "I congratulate you," he said heartily. "And I hope that by-and-by all Pendlepoint will be proud of the name of Tom Hurst."
Tom drew his hand across his eyes. "I can't help it, sir," he said apologetically. "But if you knew how much I've wished for this and dreamed of it.—Oh, I feel I can never be grateful enough to you, Mr. Keane!"
"Nonsense," said Mr. Keane. "Well, we must be going. Show us the way out, will you, Tom? Your aunt has deserted us. I don't leave for a fortnight yet. I shall see you again in a day or two."
Aunt Hepsy, however, had not altogether forgotten the duties of hospitality, and now reappeared and asked them to stay to tea. Her face had cleared a little, and she seemed to regret her previous rudeness. Her invitation, however, was courteously declined.
"You're here, I see, Tom," she said severely. "Well, I hope you're properly grateful to Mr. Keane for doing so much for you. An' I hope ye'll mend yer ways, an' be a better boy than ye've been."
"I am very grateful, Aunt Hepsy," said Tom very quietly. "And I will try to be what you say."
Something in his face and eyes touched even Aunt Hepsy, and it came upon her very suddenly to wonder if she had not treated him a little unjustly. "He's a biddable cretur, too," she said to Mr. Keane. "An' p'raps he'll take more kindly to your kind o' life than ours. I don't think much o' them useless ways o' livin' myself, but there's differences."