Thankful Rest Part 10

"This is Mr. Robert Keane, Miss Strong," said the minister. "He wants to see you and your brother, I think, on a little business."

Miss Hepsy elevated her eyebrows, and shook hands with Mr. Keane in silence.

"Josh is in the barn. I s'pose I'd better send for him," she said.

And Mr. Keane answered courteously--"If you please."

She opened the door and called to Lucy to run to the barn for her uncle.

"Yes, Aunt Hepsy," answered Lucy, her sweet, clear tones contrasting strongly with her aunt's unpleasant voice.

"Miss Goldthwaite's all right again, eh?" she asked, sitting down near the door.

"I am thankful to say my sister is none the worse of her adventure,"

answered Mr. Goldthwaite. "But for Tom's bravery the consequences might have been more serious."

"H'm, I told him it would be a precious long time afore he got on the ice again to be laid up, botherin' strange folks, an' I guess I'll keep my word."

"You must not be so hard on him, Miss Strong," said the minister. "He is a very fine lad, and tries very hard to please you, I know."

Aunt Hepsy remained silent.

"What a pretty place you have, Miss Strong," said Mr. Keane's pleasant, well-modulated voice. "The Peak shows splendidly from this window."

"The place aren't no great thing, sir," said Miss Hepsy.--"Here's Josh." She opened the door, and Uncle Josh appeared on the threshold in his working garb, grimy and dust-stained, as he had come from repairing the mill. He pulled his hair to the minister, and bowed awkwardly to Mr. Keane.

"Sit down, Josh," said Miss Hepsy, but Josh preferred to stand. There was just a moment's constrained silence.

"I have called to see you, Mr. Strong," said Robert Keane, plunging into the subject without further delay, "about your nephew Tom. He is very anxious to become a painter, I find. Would you have any objections to me putting him in the way of life to which his desire and talent point him?"

"Has the ungrateful little brat been carrying his grumbling among you folks?" said Miss Hepsy wrathfully.

"Be quiet, Hepsy," said Joshua Strong very imperatively.

"I don't quite understand you, sir," he said to Mr. Keane. "I can't afford to send the boy anywhere to learn anything, if ye mean that.

He'll never do no good on a farm, for sartin; but he kin work for his livin' here, an' that's all I kin do for 'im."

"I am a painter myself," said Mr. Keane, guessing they were unaware of the fact, and now wis.h.i.+ng to state his intentions as briefly and plainly as possible; "and from what I have seen of your nephew I believe his talent for art to be very great indeed. What I mean is this: give him up to me; I will take him back to Philadelphia, and take entire care of his training. It will not cost you a farthing, Mr. Strong. Do you understand?"

"We're poor folks, but we don't take charity even for Hetty's children," said Miss Hepsy pointedly. "We've never been offered it afore."

Mr. Keane might have waxed angry at the impertinent remark. He was only inwardly amused. "It is not charity, Miss Strong," he said good-humouredly. "I expect Tom will be able to repay anything he may cost me. I hope you will not stand in the lad's way. He is a born artist, and will never do good in any other sphere.--Come, Mr.

Strong, say yes, and let us shake hands over the bargain."

It was proof of the rare delicacy of Robert Keane's nature that he put the matter in the light of a favour to himself. Mr. Goldthwaite admired and honoured his friend at that moment more than he had ever done before.

Aunt Hepsy preserved a rigid and unbending silence.

Uncle Josh stood twirling his thumbs reflectively. It was to cost him nothing, not a farthing; and he would be rid of the bother the hot-headed youngster was to him. But for his sister he would have granted a ready a.s.sent.

"Wal, Hepsy?" he said in an inquiring tone.

"You're the master, Josh, I reckon. Do as ye please. It's all one to me;" and to their amazement she flounced out of the room and banged the door behind her.

"I'm much obleeged to you, Mr. Keane," said Josh, finding his tongue in a marvellously short time. "I've no objections. As I said afore, he's an idle, peart young 'un; no good at farm work. I hope yell be able to make a better job o' him than I've done."

"I am not afraid," said Mr. Robert Keane. "And I am obliged to you for granting my request. Can I see Tom?"

"I reckon you may," said Uncle Josh slowly. "Wal, I'll be off to that plaguy mill. Good-day to you.--My respects to Miss Goldthwaite, parson." Once more Uncle Josh pulled his forelock, and shambled out of the room.

"It doesn't cause them much concern anyway," said Mr. Keane when the door closed. "They are a bright pair; I should be afraid of that woman myself. How that mite of a girl stands it I don't know."

Before Mr. Goldthwaite had time to answer, the door opened, and a very eager, excited-looking boy appeared on the threshold.

"Well, Tom, my boy," said Mr. Keane, holding out his hand, "the bargain's sealed. You belong to me now."

"Has Uncle Josh--has Aunt Hepsy said I might?" he said breathlessly.

"Oh, it is too good to be true!"

"True enough," said Mr. Keane, laughing at the lad's manner.--"Please a.s.sure him of it, Mr. Goldthwaite."

Mr. Goldthwaite laid his hand on the lad's shoulder, and bent his grave eyes on his beaming face. "I congratulate you," he said heartily. "And I hope that by-and-by all Pendlepoint will be proud of the name of Tom Hurst."

Tom drew his hand across his eyes. "I can't help it, sir," he said apologetically. "But if you knew how much I've wished for this and dreamed of it.--Oh, I feel I can never be grateful enough to you, Mr.

Keane!"

"Nonsense," said Mr. Keane. "Well, we must be going. Show us the way out, will you, Tom? Your aunt has deserted us. I don't leave for a fortnight yet. I shall see you again in a day or two."

Aunt Hepsy, however, had not altogether forgotten the duties of hospitality, and now reappeared and asked them to stay to tea. Her face had cleared a little, and she seemed to regret her previous rudeness. Her invitation, however, was courteously declined.

"You're here, I see, Tom," she said severely. "Well, I hope you're properly grateful to Mr. Keane for doing so much for you. An' I hope ye'll mend yer ways, an' be a better boy than ye've been."

"I am very grateful, Aunt Hepsy," said Tom very quietly. "And I will try to be what you say."

Something in his face and eyes touched even Aunt Hepsy, and it came upon her very suddenly to wonder if she had not treated him a little unjustly. "He's a biddable cretur, too," she said to Mr. Keane. "An'

p'raps he'll take more kindly to your kind o' life than ours. I don't think much o' them useless ways o' livin' myself, but there's differences."

"Some day perhaps, Miss Strong, when Tom comes back a great man,"

laughed Mr. Keane, as he shook hands with her and Tom, "you'll admit you've changed your mind. If you do I'll come along and have a good laugh at you."

A smile actually appeared on Miss Hepsy's face. "He's a real pleasant-spoken gentleman, Mr. Robert Keane," said Aunt Hepsy, as she shut the door.--"Well, Tom, I hope ye'll get yer fill o' paintin'

now."

Tom's eyes beamed, but he made no verbal reply. Lucy followed him to the door as he pa.s.sed out to the barn again.

"O Tom, I am so glad," she whispered joyfully; and Tom answered by tossing his cap in the air and trying to bound up after it.

"Glad? I don't know whether I'm on my head or my heels, Lucy," he said. "It's the happiest day of my life."