"Oh, that don't matter. However, perhaps I had better be going."
Eben was not sorry to part with Tom. He wanted time to think over his new-found pleasures and all the things that had happened to him. He had the feeling that I suppose almost every one has experienced after a day of unwonted pleasure and excitement—as though he must have done or said something wrong or unbecoming. However, when he came to consider the matter, he could not find anything very important of which to accuse himself, unless it was that he had talked rather too freely to Dr. Porter and to Jem Carter.
"Certainly I never said so much to any stranger before, but the old gentleman seemed somehow to lead me on from one thing to another. Dr. Henry said he was fond of young people, and I am sure he must be, or he would not have lent me these nice books. I wonder how he knows that I won't run away with them or sell them? I wonder if Flossy would give up Latin and study French with me? Mary Clarke has studied French, and she could help us along."
"But there was Jem Carter. I wonder if I was right to speak so plainly to him? It was hard work enough for me to do it, I know, so I didn't speak to please or show off myself. It seems like taking a great deal on myself, now I look back on it, but, after all, I know that every word I said was true, and he was not offended, either, for he was as kind as could be, and asked me to pray for him. Oh, if he could only turn round, and be a good, sober, Christian man, how happy all his friends would be! Well, there is no use in going back on it, as Jeduthun says. I remember reading in that book Miss Barnard lent Flossy last week, that it was a bad habit to get into the way of always going back in the dark to see if you hadn't left a spark from a candle behind you. Why, what a crowd!"
They were now near the Springs, and as they came up Eben saw that there was a great crowd about the station. This was nothing very unusual, for going down to see the train come in was one of the few public amusements that the Springs afforded, but it was not the usual merry crowd of ladies and gentlemen from the Cure and the hotel. They were almost all men. There was no laughing and very little talking, and every one seemed to be speaking in low tones. What could have happened? As Eben got out of the car, somebody said:
"No, he was perfectly sober. I was talking with him not half an hour before, and he was just as straight as I am—not joking and carrying on, as he generally is, but kind of grave and serious."
"Here's Eben Fairchild," said some one else. "I dare say he will take the mare home. Eben, would you be afraid to drive poor Jem Carter's mare over home?"
"No, of course not," replied Eben. "But why does not Jem take her himself?"
"Why, haven't you heard?"
"No, I have been at Hobartown all day. Is he sick?"