The young man started back, more struck by the emotion he had shown than by her words, and the Chief Baron advanced towards him with a manner of blended courtesy and dignity, saying, “I am glad to know you. Your sister's brother must be very welcome to me.”
“I wish I could make a proper excuse for this mode of entry, sir. First of all, I thought Lucy was alone; and, secondly—”
“Never mind the second plea; I submit to a verdict on the first,” said the Judge, smiling.
“Tom forgot; it was Tuesday was his day,” began Lucy.
“I have no day; days are all alike to me, Lucy. My occupations of Monday could be transferred to a Saturday, or, if need be, postponed indefinitely beyond it.”
“The glorious leisure of the fortunate,” said the Judge, with a peculiar smile.
“Or the vacuity of the unlucky, possibly,” said Tom, with an easy laugh.
“At all events, young gentleman, you carry your load jauntily.”
“One reason is, perhaps, that I never knew it was a load. I have always paraded in heavy marching order, so that I don't mind the weight of my pack.”
For the first time did the old man's features relax into a look of kindly meaning. To find the youth not merely-equal to appreciate a figure of speech, but able to carry on the illustration, seemed so to identify him with his own blood and kindred that the old Judge felt himself instinctively drawn towards him.