“Boys are so ready to make friends,” said Mrs. Morland, moved in spite of her prejudices, and striving to shake off an uncomfortable sense of defeat. “Well, James, I am not so insensible of your good intentions as you fancy. I never was quick to give affection, so you need not take it amiss if I am not demonstrative. I dare say we shall manage to put up with one another. Whether as part of a bargain or not, I shall certainly desire that you be known for the future by your proper name. And perhaps,” added the speaker, as the better side of her nature asserted itself, “you may not despise a different undertaking on my part. It is unlikely that you and I shall draw together—there is no tie of blood to help us, and I frankly confess to thinking the time too late. But I give you my promise to do nothing to hinder you from winning the children’s liking, if it has value in your eyes.”
Jim silently bent his head.
“They are very miserable,” continued Mrs. Morland, “and you are about to give them some sort of comfort. Your chance with them ought to be a good one.”
“I’d rather,” said Jim steadily, “as they did not think of things that way. They’re just children, and shouldn’t know what trouble means, when there’s grown folk to save them. Then, will you please tell them as we’ve arranged?”
“Why not do that yourself?” Mrs. Morland rose, and her spirits answering to a relief of mind she could not all at once realize, she moved with her old grace and dignity towards the door. “Come with me, James. You shall be introduced as the future head of the house to your brother and sister. I shall leave you to give the necessary orders about our movements. La reine est morte—that is, she’s going to retire into private life!”
Mrs. Morland led the way to the children’s sitting-room; but only Austin was there. He had lingered, nervously anxious about the result of Jim’s visit to Elveley; but Frances had already gone for comfort and counsel to her friend Miss Carlyon. To Austin his mother formally announced her decision as to the future.
“Your brother means to be good to you,” she said, with an attempt at cheerfulness; “you must try to thank him better than I have done.”
CHAPTER XI.
THE HEAD OF THE HOUSE.
It fell to the lot of Austin to tell his sister of Jim’s plan for their settlement at Rowdon Smithy. Jim had resolutely declined to wait at Elveley long enough to be the bearer of his own news. He was beset with misgivings as to the results of the course to which he had persuaded his stepmother to agree; and yet he knew that by no other means could he possibly provide, even in the humblest way, for his kinsfolk.
He had been reared by a masterful, self-contained man, who had exacted unmurmuring obedience, and had seldom encouraged individual thought and action. Thus Jim Morland, at twenty-one, was hardly more than a boy in essential matters; and the responsibility of “head of the house”, suddenly thrust on him, was enough to press heavily on his immature character. He learned, as time passed, to draw on the fundamental independence of his nature; but at first he found himself capable only of doing what lay to his hand—of planning as best he might for the present comfort of his little family, while he trusted that his path might some day grow less dim.