“He is the son of my old school-mate, Stephen Temple, who desired at his death that his son should come to me.”
“It is very kind of you to assume the charge,” said the lawyer, who fancied that Tom was without means.
“Not at all,” said Nathan modestly. “For the sake of my old friend I am glad to assume his place to his orphan boy.”
“I hope, young man,” said the lawyer, “that you are sensible of Mr. Middleton’s kindness.”
“Oh, yes,” said Tom, “I appreciate it properly.”
Our hero’s tone was rather peculiar, and Nathan Middleton felt uncomfortable, not knowing what he might be tempted to say. He was quite conscious that boarding Tom for twenty dollars a week did not involve any extraordinary kindness on his part.
“I believe, young man, you had some difficulty with my son yesterday,” said the lawyer, in a tone calculated to overawe our hero.
“I had a little difficulty with two boys,” said Tom coolly.
“My son and nephew.”
“I am very sorry that anything unpleasant should have occurred, Squire Davenport,” said Nathan nervously.