“Well, my boy, you have taken a heavy [p112] weight from my heart and added years to my life by coming back,” was what he said, drawing the lad to him, and laying his hand on his shoulder.
“Have you missed me so much, uncle?” asked Oscar.
“Missed!” A look passed over Dr. Willett’s face, which Inna, watching, thought very like that on her father’s face when he kissed her “Good-bye,” before she came down to the farm.
“Missed you, Master Oscar! yes, we’re all missed, even when ’tis a boy we’re keeping the farm for,” was Mrs. Grant’s unlooked-for remark.
“Very silly of Mrs. Grant, to bring up that question of the farm on the first night of the boy’s return,” observed the doctor, when he and his friend were sipping their coffee together, the young folk gone to bed, the budget of Oscar’s adventures to be opened on the morrow.
“You see, dear,” said that lady to Inna, after Jenny was asleep; and Inna’s eyes were sadly wakeful. “You see, dear, I wanted Master Oscar to see, while his heart was tender, on this first night, that as he had been missed and wanted by his uncle, it ought to be ‘give and take’ with him, when I spoke about the farm.”
“Yes, Miss Inna, give and take; it’s that as smooths life’s rough places. Master Oscar has nothing to give his uncle for all he’s doing for him, but his will—letting go that foolish nonsense about the sea. He ought to give up the sea and take to the farm—that would be his giving and taking; and his uncle would give him the farm, and take his—his obedience to his wishes, as a sort of harvest of love after all the years of sowing.”
“Sowing?” said Inna.
“Yes, the doctor has sown a deal of trouble, thought, and anxiety over this young brother of his, at last lost at sea—that’s Oscar’s father, you know. I think, in his quiet way, he’s set his heart on the boy making him some return, in the way of love and gratitude; and besides, he says, putting him into the farm is the best thing he can do for him, leaving out the love, obedience, and gratitude, and——” But Inna was asleep.