"Well, everything must wait until you are fed, and warmed, and dried," said hospitable Mrs. Butler, hastening forward, "Fred," to a tall boy behind—"Come, take the horse, will you? Come in, come in, Mr. Chance; it was good of you to ride through the bush on a day like this, for when it rains it means business in our country."
Ten minutes later Tom sat in the living-room before a log fire cracking cheerily in the open fireplace, which sent a leaping shower of flame and sparks up the chimney. The family, of varying sex and sizes, having accorded the visitor shy greeting, dispersed, leaving the space clear for Mrs. Butler and Jessie, who bustled round preparing a meal of the best viands the house could produce at so short a notice.
After the rough but hospitable meal, Tom resumed his seat near the fire and laid his proposal before them, that Jessie should become temporary assistant teacher in the little school at Wylmington, with the view of following teaching as her profession. Miss Armstrong had expressed her willingness to give her a helping hand with her studies, and Jessie could live at the school-house with her. Indeed, Miss Armstrong would be glad to welcome her there, as the life was too lonely a one for any girl to face.
Jessie listened to the plan as it unfolded itself with occasional exclamations of delight, but her father demurred.
"The lass isn't strong. I'd rather have her here under our own eyes for a bit."
"But it's the future we must look to, Harry. It's putting Jessie in the way of earning her own living. If anything ails her she's not far from home," said the more sensible mother. "I believe we must let her go."
"Thank you," said Tom, as if he were accepting a favour, rather than conferring one. "I wanted to feel Jessie had found her proper niche before I said good-bye."
Jessie's heart sank like lead, all the joy at the thought of the life of useful work which opened out before her dashed by the near prospect of losing the friend who had so greatly helped her, but she said nothing. Her regret was too deep for words. She simply turned imploring eyes upon the speaker as if making dumb appeal to him to reverse his decision.
"It seems a pity you should leave us," said the farmer with slow deliberation. "I don't profess to know much about parsons and their work, but it strikes me you are the right man in the right place."
"Thank you," said Tom, with a little laugh, "but I never came to stop. I came to fill a gap; I am leaving for the mainland almost directly."