“I’ll attend to him in a moment,” said Mr Temple. “Let me finish this letter.”
Will stood in the middle of the room in his shabby, well-worn canvas trousers and coarse jersey, his straw hat hanging at full arm’s-length by his side, and his clear grey eyes, after a glance at Arthur, fixed almost hungrily upon the specimens of ore and minerals that encumbered the table and window-sill wherever there was a place where a block could be laid.
The sight of these brought up many a hunt that he had had amongst the old mines and rifts and chasms of the rocks round about the shore, and made him long once more to steal away for a few hours in search of some vein that would give him a chance of making himself independent and working his own way in the world.
Dick broke his train of thought by coming behind him and placing a chair for him, but he declined.
“I wish I had thought to do that!” said Arthur to himself. “I never think of those little things.”
“That’s done,” said Mr Temple sharply as he fastened down a large blue envelope and swung round to face Will. “Sit down, my lad,” he said quickly.
Will hesitated, and then sat down, wondering what was coming; and so accustomed was he to being taken to task that he began to run over in his mind what he had done lately likely to have displeased Mr Temple. He came to the conclusion at last that he had been encouraging the two lads too much to go out fishing, and that their father was annoyed with them for making a companion of so common a lad.
Mr Temple gazed straight at him in silence for a few moments, and Will met his gaze frankly and well.
“Let me see, my lad,” said Mr Temple at last. “You are quite dependent on Mr and Mrs Marion?”
“Yes, sir,” said Will with an ill-suppressed sigh.