And then he led away the talk to their home in Devonshire, and the red bright earth, and the deep green combes,[21] and the peat[22] streams like cairngorm[23] pebbles, and the wild moor[24] with its high cloudy Tors[25] for a giant background to the picture,—till Tom got jealous, and stood up for the clear chalk streams, and the emerald water meadows and great elms and willows of the dear old Royal county, as he gloried to call it. And the mother sat on quiet and loving, rejoicing in their life. The quarter-to-ten struck, and the bell rang for bed, before they had well begun their talk as it seemed.
Then Tom rose with a sigh to go.
"Shall I see you in the morning, Geordie?" said he, as he shook his friend's hand. "Never mind, though; you'll be back next half, and I sha'n't forget the house of Rimmon."
Arthur's mother got up and walked with him to the door, and there gave him her hand again, and again his eyes met that deep loving look, which was like a spell upon him. Her voice trembled slightly as she said, "Good-night,—you are one who knows what our Father has promised to the friend of the widow and the fatherless. May He deal with you as you have dealt with me and mine!"
Tom was quite upset; he mumbled something about owing everything good in him to Geordie—looked in her face again, pressed her hand to his lips, and rushed down stairs to his study, where he sat till old Thomas came kicking at the door to tell him his allowance[26] would be stopped if he didn't go off to bed. (It would have been stopped anyhow, but that he was a great favorite with the old gentleman, who loved to come out in the afternoon into the close to Tom's wicket, and bowl slow twisters[27] to him, and talk of the glories of bygone Surrey[28] heroes, with whom he had played in former generations.)
So Tom roused himself, and took up his candle to go to bed; and then for the first time was aware of a beautiful new fishing-rod, with old Eton's[29] mark on it, and a splendidly bound Bible, which lay on his table, on the title-page of which was written: "Tom Brown, from his affectionate and grateful friends, Frances Jane Arthur; George Arthur."
I leave you all to guess how he slept, and what he dreamt of.
FOOTNOTES
[1] Bequest: something given by will.
[2] Marylebone match (merrybun): a match by the London cricket club of that name. It is the leading cricket club of the world. The celebrated Lord's grounds in London are its property.