During tea the conversation was mostly about Miss Perry and her nephew, but Tom took little part in it. By listening he learnt all he desired to know. Mrs. Burford had returned shortly after he had left the house, it appeared, and Nellie had talked to Peter whilst her mother answered the questions Miss Perry had put concerning Jane.
"I never spoke to anyone who was blind before," Nellie observed by and by; "I'm sure Peter Perry doesn't look blind, does he, Mother?"
"No, my dear," Mrs. Burford replied; "his eyes are not disfigured in any way."
"What's wrong with them?" asked Tom.
"There is something amiss with the nerves at the back of them," Mrs. Burford answered; "I don't quite understand what it is, but whatever it is, is incurable."
"He will never be able to see as long as he lives," said Nellie, very solemnly; "he told me so himself."
"Did he seem much cut up about it?" inquired Tom.
Nellie shook her head. "He seemed quite bright and happy," she said. "I like him ever so much. He made me promise to speak to him when we meet out of doors, and, of course, I shall."
Later, when Tom was alone with his sister, he began, with a note of severity in his voice, "Now tell me all you said to Peter Perry, Nellie. Did you mention that shilling?"
"Yes," she admitted, "I did, because I wanted to hear what he had to say. I told him how upset you had been about it, and he was awfully, awfully sorry—you thought he was, didn't you? Of course, if he had seen you it wouldn't have happened—he wouldn't have dreamed of giving you money, I mean. He said he'd like to be friends with us, if we didn't mind, and I promised to speak to you about it. The next time you meet him do tell him you're willing to be friends!"