Mr. Tom Morgan had his reasons for taking Johnnie in by the back door and through the kitchen. He really wanted to know if the boy was in the slightest degree presentable.
He was better pleased with his appearance than he had expected to be. Johnnie's nether garments of hodden grey were patched at the knees and tattered and short at the ankles; his jacket was torn, too, and out at the elbows; but the lad was clean, even to his shirt, which left neck and red chest exposed to the weather.
Johnnie's features were regular and far from unpleasant, but his dark eyes were very large and sad.
"You'll do, lad, you'll do. Come along; it is Christmas eve, and mother is kind anyhow."
CHAPTER II
LIFE IN SUMMER LOANING.
"O children," cried old Mrs. Morgan during a lull in the frolicsome riot, "here comes your uncle Tom. I can hear his voice in the hall. Now we'll have a song and a dance!"
She rose and walked towards the drawing-room door, and the bairns crowded after, with joyful, expectant faces.
But when the door was opened, and they found Uncle Tom standing there holding little ragged Johnnie by the hand, astonishment and wonder seemed to deprive everybody of speech. Miss Scraggs, an elderly spinster, nearly fainted.
"What on earth—" began one elderly gentleman.