“Do as you like,” said Tom. “If you are unwilling to pay it, James may regard it as a present from me.”
“I should not wish my son to remain under such an obligation, and I am quite aware that your present circumstances will not justify you in making so large a present, or indeed any at all. I therefore repay you.”
Tom received the bank-notes and put them in his pocket-book.
“Thank you,” he said, “both for the money and the consideration for my poverty. I won’t occupy any more of your time, but will bid you all good-by. I should be glad to have you send good-by to Mary Somers when you write.”
“I’ll do it,” said James. “By the way, you would be a good match for her. She hasn’t got a cent, and can’t expect anything better than being a mechanic’s wife.”
“Would you be willing to accept a mechanic for a cousin?” asked Tom, smiling.
“We shouldn’t need to be intimate.”
“Very true. That’s a comfort. But we won’t look too far ahead. Good-by.”
And Tom withdrew.
“What a ridiculous pride that boy has,” said Mrs. Davenport.