One of these, alone, might be risked. Nancy had confidingly told him that she had all the faith in the world in his future, and he heard her gratefully. "Why, the way you talked to those men at the mill shows clearly enough what you can do," she said.
Tom coloured slightly, but let the moment pass without explanation. When he had first done so it was with the mental reservation that he would laughingly explain it some day, and he would, too, but it wasn't yet just the right time. So he stooped and kissed her affectionately; and then, as he was hatless at the time, she was reminded of something she had long wanted to tell him.
"If you don't look out, Tom, you will be perfectly bald in five years."
"Well, I've done everything I can, and——"
"Now, all you have to do is to brush it five minutes in the morning and five minutes at night."
"Ten minutes a day! I should be exhausted."
"Well, I shall do it for you, then." Whereupon the scene acquired an excess of sentiment at once.
Certain more mundane passages may be observed, however, without any particular offence.
The passages that took place around the opening of the wedding presents were possibly as diverting as any. Tom, whose mind's eye was ever upon the little colonial house in Tutors' Lane, now his property, was perhaps more concerned than most grooms are in the furnishing of his nest. He found himself greatly elated when he or his bride would draw forth some shining prize of a silver bowl or plate—until they began getting too many of them—and correspondingly depressed when some many-coloured glass lamp or strange dish would appear. What on earth could they do with them? Dear old Mrs. Conover, for example, sent a large Bohemian glass jar of a peacock-eyes pattern. It would have to be on view when she called, and as they had no way of knowing when that would be, it had to be on view all the time.
From Omaha came an ominous package which made Tom shudder. Would his sister contrive to mortify him? He could picture her pleasure in doing so, and when the package was opened and out came two china parrots, Tom thought the pleasure was hers. A note which came with the birds explained that they were very fashionable in Omaha at the time and that all Omaha had them on its dinner table. To Tom, his sister's gift and note could hardly have been worse, but Nancy kissed him and told him not to be stupid, that the parrots were nice; and Tom was so flustered he couldn't tell whether they were or not. At any rate, Nancy wrote a charming, sisterly little note, and Tom was more pleased with his future than ever.