“No; and they are not coming,” said Mr Brandon angrily.
“Oh, James dear!” protested Mrs Brandon.
“My dear Jem!” said Uncle Richard, smiling, “I put in my petition. The fight is over, so now let’s have peace and—dinner.”
“Oh, very well,” said Mr Brandon. “Mary, go and tell Mr Samuel that we are waiting dinner for him.”
“And, Mary, you will convey the same message to Mr Thomas,” said Uncle Richard.
“Yes, sir,” said the girl, with a smile; and before her master could protest she was gone.
Five minutes elapsed, during which Uncle Richard seemed to have forgotten his dinner in eager explanation of some piece of mechanism that he was making, and about which he had come up to town. At the end of that time Tom entered nervously, looking as if he had had his share of cuts and bruises; but to his great satisfaction no one said a word; and then Sam came in, looking very puffy about the eyes, and with one side of his mouth drawn down into a peculiar swollen smile.
“Oh!” exclaimed his mother, and she rose to fly to his side; but Uncle Richard was prepared for her, and took her hand to draw through his arm.
“That’s right,” he cried. “I am awfully hungry;” and he led her out of the room, followed by Mr Brandon, while Tom and Sam followed in silence down the stairs, each intent upon the plans he had in his breast, and fully determined to carry them out.