"I'd like a chin with him, all the same!" He hugged himself as he stood on the hearth, and his huge shadow hugged itself on the wall. The same mischievous sound crept back into his voice. "I'm mighty glad to see you again, old woman, I am that! Perhaps you'll feel like slinging me a smile or two after a bit."
"Eliza'll smile, I'll warrant, if you've nobbut a pound or two in your poke."
"I have that--sure!" He slapped his coat as he spoke, laughing a great laugh which shook her as cruelly as his knock. "It's up to me to keep my pockets stitched, nowadays," he finished, in a contented tone.
"I'm main glad to hear it," she said sardonically, and he nodded gaily.
"That's real nice of you, old woman! You can keep right on. You'd a terrible down on me in the old days, hadn't you now?"
"I've no use for you, Jim Thornthwaite, and never had. You know that as well as me."
"That's so!" He laughed again. "But I was always mighty fond of you." He made a movement as if to cross to her side, but she backed instantly, as if she guessed. "Of course, you'd a deal rather it had been Geordie," he said. "I know that. But he was never much of a sparkle in the family tarara, and that's honest. I left him serving in a store,--poor lad Geordie,--and hankering like honey after the old spot!"
"And you left him behind," Sarah flung at him,--"you wi' brass?"
"He wouldn't take a red cent. I looked him up as soon as I struck it rich, but he was always set on hoeing his own row. He'd have taken it from his own folks, but he wouldn't from me. Guess it was Blindbeck hate in him coming out at last! But if ever he'd had the dollars, he'd have been home before you could hear him shout."
"He's best where he is," Sarah said coldly, repenting her charge. Eliza's son should not see that she grudged or cared. "Them as makes beds can likely lie on the straw."