“Oh, yes! Have you anything to tell me, James?”
“Just that an old friend has come to see me, and is still here. He’s waiting for me in the smithy. Tom Lessing and I used to be great chums once on a time, though his people were better off than mine. He went out to Australia four years ago, and he has done very well.” Mrs. Morland heard a slight sigh. “He always was a very capable chap, and he has a splendid farm out there now. I—I think the children would like him; he has seen such a lot. Please, would you mind very much if I kept him to dinner?”
“Is he very rough? I do not mean to hurt you, James; but you know I have Frances to think of.”
“I would not let a rough fellow come near the children,” said Jim in gentle reproach.
“No—no. I am sure you would not. Then, pray keep your friend. I will help Frances to prepare something extra, and he shall be made welcome.”
“Thank you very much,” said Jim gratefully. “Tom has come to England for a holiday, and he is going to take lodgings in Exham for a few days, so that we may see something of each other. I should not wish him to come here, Mrs. Morland,” added Jim simply, “if you were afraid for the children; but, indeed, Tom is a nice fellow, and I think you will not dislike him.”
The last words proved true. Tom Lessing had not long been in Mrs. Morland’s presence before she had decided that she liked him very much. He was several years older than her stepson, and as big and strong as Jim was slight and active. He treated Jim’s “lady-folk” with courteous deference, and was evidently able to polish his “backwoodsman” manners for fit converse in an English home. The dinner passed off pleasantly, Jim and Austin distinguishing themselves as waiters. The visitor enjoyed everything, and behaved in an easy, natural fashion which had nothing vulgar about it. Mrs. Morland reflected that her stepson must have followed some wise instinct in the choice of his boyhood’s friends.
That dinner was the first of several meals shared by Tom with his old chum, and his chum’s kindred. Privately, he declared that Jim was a lucky chap to have proved his right to claim relationship with such a bright, plucky little pair as his lately-discovered brother and sister; and then he added a few words in acknowledgment of Mrs. Morland’s courteous welcome, which made Jim happier than anything. Besides sharing meals, Tom found himself made free of the smithy, where he held exhaustive discussions with Jim, and of the orchard, where he romped with Austin, to the latter’s great content.
During the old friends’ exchange of confidences and record of experiences, Jim was lured into expressions of feeling with regard to his kindred which made good-hearted Tom look on the lad with kindly and pitying eyes. With him, overwrought Jim felt he might venture to unbosom himself of his anxieties and ambitions concerning the future. Jim’s desired course of action tended in only one way—the proper maintenance, in ease and comfort, of his stepmother and sister, and the careful training of his brother with a view to Austin’s adoption of some honourable profession. While uttering his aspirations, Jim revealed to his attentive chum the reality of his pride in the girl and boy who depended on him, and his deep affection for them. Tom listened and pondered, and made up his mind. His liking for “young East” had always been something more than mere boyish comradeship; and the respect and sympathy with which he quietly noted Jim’s hard and continual effort to live up to his own high standard of duty now added to Tom’s former easy liking the deeper regard of his maturer years.