“Well, I had to, if I ever heard anything,” burst out Joel, with a laugh. “Come on, Tom,” and he bore him off together with Sinbad.
“Polly,” Jasper was saying, the two now being off in a corner, “how fine! Now, perhaps Tom Beresford will sing.”
“And play,” finished Polly, with kindling face. “Oh Jasper, was anything ever so gorgeous!” she cried joyfully, for Polly dearly loved high-sounding words; “and we'll sell a lot more tickets, because he's new, and people will want to hear him.”
“If he will do it,” said Jasper slowly, not wanting to dampen her anticipation, but dreadfully afraid that the new boy might not respond.
“Oh, he'll do it, I do believe,” declared Polly confidently; “he must, Jasper, help about that poor brakeman's family.”
And he did. Tom Beresford evidently made up his mind, when he went home with Joel, to do everything straight through that the family asked him, for he turned out to be the best visitor they had entertained, and one and all pronounced him capital. All but Joel himself, who told him very flatly the second day that he wasn't half as nice as at school, for he was now running at everybody's beck and nod.
“Instead of yours,” said Tom calmly. Then he roared.
“Hush up,” cried Joel, very uncomfortable, and getting very red. “Well, you must acknowledge, Tom, that I want to see something of you, else why would I have brought you home, pray tell?”
“Nevertheless, I shall do what your sister Polly and your mother and Jasper and Mr. King ask me to do,” said Tom composedly, which was all Joel got for his fuming. And the most that he saw of Tom after that was a series of dissolving views, for even Phronsie began to monopolize him, being very much taken with his obliging ways.
At last Joel took to moping, and Ben found him thus in a corner.