“Come back to the house,” he said; and I saw him take his sister’s hand, draw it through his arm, and lead her away.
But Mr John, who looked brown and wonderfully changed, hung back, and held out his hand.
“Oh, Mayne,” he said, sadly, “I did not expect to come and find you like this. What is the meaning of it all?”
“Don’t, mother; do be quiet,” cried Esau just then. “He hit me first.”
“Oh, but, Esau, my boy, my boy!”
“Well, what’s the good o’ crying? Don’t; you’re crying all down my neck. Be quiet. How are you? There. Now do leave off hanging on me. I want to go and have a wash.”
“Oh, Mr Gordon,” cried the poor little woman, as Esau ungraciously shook himself free, “how could you hit Esau first—and you such friends?”
“Because he was trying to make me out a blackguard,” I cried.
“Well, I couldn’t help it,” cried Esau; “I thought it was true.”
“But you’ll shake hands with me, my dear, after I’ve come all these hundreds and thousands of miles—shake hands and say you’re sorry you hit Esau first.”