“Cost; let me see—a good wherry, with sculls and oars, will be a matter of thirty pounds.”
The old woman screwed up her mouth, shook her head, and then walked away to prepare for dinner.
“I think she could muster the blunt, Jacob, but she don’t like to part with it. Tom must coax her. I wish he hadn’t shied the cat at her. He’s too full of fun.”
As old Beazeley finished, I perceived a wherry pulling in with some ladies. I looked attentively, and recognised my own boat, and Tom pulling. In a minute more they were at the hard, and who, to my astonishment, were there seated, but Mrs Drummond and Sarah. As Tom got out of the boat and held it steady against the hard, he called to me; I could not do otherwise than go and assist them out; and once more did I touch the hands of those whom I never thought to meet again. Mrs Drummond retained my hand a short time after she landed, saying, “We are friends, Jacob, are we not!”
“Oh, yes, madam,” replied I, much moved, in a faltering voice.
“I shall not ask that question,” said Sarah, gaily, “for we parted friends.”
And as I recalled to mind her affectionate behaviour, I pressed her hand, and the tears glistened in my eyes as I looked into her sweet face. As I afterwards discovered, this was an arranged plan with old and young Tom, to bring about a meeting without my knowledge. Mrs Beazeley courtesied and stroked her apron—smiled at the ladies, looked very cat-ish at Tom, showed the ladies into the house, where old Tom assisted to do the honours after his own fashion, by asking Mrs Drummond if she would like to whet her whistle after her pull. Mrs Drummond looked round to me for explanation, but young Tom thought proper to be interpreter. “Father wants to know, if you please, ma’am, whether, after your pull in the boat, you wouldn’t like to have a pull at the brandy bottle?”
“No,” replied Mrs Drummond, smiling; “but I should be obliged for a glass of water. Will you get me one, Jacob?”
I hastened to comply, and Mrs Drummond entered into conversation with Mrs Beazeley. Sarah looked at me, and went to the door, turning back as inviting me to follow. I did so, and we soon found ourselves seated on the bench in the old boat.
“Jacob,” said she, looking earnestly at me, “you surely will be friends with my father?”