He thought of what his home-coming might have been if he had remained true to Alice; he fancied the look in her eyes as she greeted him; of the feelings which would fill his heart as he sat by her side in the church which she attended. But that was impossible now; he had made his choice, and she had made hers. Thus his home-coming would be robbed of half its joy. If he saw Alice at all she would be in the company of Harry Briarfield, and Briarfield, he knew, had always looked down upon him. "But there," he said to himself, "I'll bear it like a man. I have done my bit, and that's something, anyhow."
He had sent a telegram to his mother the day before, telling her of the time he expected to arrive in Brunford, and presently when the train drew into the station he looked out of the window eagerly expectant, and with fast-beating heart.
Yes, there his father and mother were, waiting for him. But what was the meaning of the crowd?
No sooner did he set foot on the platform than a great cheer arose.
"There he is! There's Tom Pollard!"
"Gi't tongue, lads! Gi't tongue! Hip! hip! hip! hoorah!"
Tom, heedless of the cheering and shouting, went straight to his mother. For a second this lady looked at him, and seemed to be on the point of greeting him with a caustic remark; then her mother's heart melted.
"Ay, Tom, I'm fair glad to see thee," she sobbed.
"And I am glad to see you, mother. Ay, father, it is good to see you, it is."
"And I am fair proud on you, Tom," and Ezekiel Pollard's voice was hoarse as he shook his son's hand.