Volume I Part 11 (2/2)

”I hope that I may be permitted to make her acquaintance,” repeated he, not feeling very certain that his former speech was quite understood.

”Maybe so,” grumbled he out at last, and sank back in his chair with a look of sulky ill-humor; for so it was that poor Tom, in his ignorance of life and its ways, deemed the proposal one of those free-and-easy suggestions which might be made to persons of very inferior station, and to whom the fact of acquaintances.h.i.+p should be accounted as a great honor.

Conyers was provoked at the little willingness shown to meet his offer,--an offer he felt to be a very courteous piece of condescension on his part,--and now both sat in silence. At last Tom Dill, long struggling with some secret impulse, gave way, and in a tone far more decided and firm than heretofore, said, ”Maybe you think, from seeing what sort of a fellow I am, that my sister ought to be like me; and because _I_ have neither manners nor education, that she 's the same?

But listen to me now; she 's just as little like me as you are yourself.

You 're not more of a gentleman than she's a lady!”

”I never imagined anything else.”

”And what made you talk of bringing her up here to present her to you, as you called it? Was she to be trotted out in a cavasin, like a filly?”

”My dear fellow,” said Conyers, good-humoredly, ”you never made a greater mistake. I begged that you would present _me_ to your sister.

I asked the sort of favor which is very common in the world, and in the language usually employed to convey such a request. I observed the recognized etiquette--”

”What do I know about etiquette? If you'd have said, 'Tom Dill, I want to be introduced to your sister,' I 'd have guessed what you were at, and I 'd have said, 'Come back in the boat with me to-morrow, and so you shall.'”

”It's a bargain, then, Dill. I want two or three things in the village, and I accept your offer gladly.”

Not only was peace now ratified between them, but a closer feeling of intimacy established; for poor Tom, not much spoiled by any excess of the world's sympathy, was so delighted by the kindly interest shown him, that he launched out freely to tell all about himself and his fortunes, how hardly treated he was at home, and how ill usage had made him despondent, and despondency made him dissolute. ”It's all very well to rate a fellow about his taste for low pleasures and low companions; but what if he's not rich enough for better? He takes them just as he smokes cheap tobacco, because he can afford no other. And do you know,”

continued he, ”you are the first real gentleman that ever said a kind word to me, or asked me to sit down in his company. It's even so strange to me yet, that maybe when I 'm rowing home to-night I 'll think it's all a dream,--that it was the wine got into my head.”

”Is not some of this your own fault?” broke in Conyers. ”What if you had held your head higher--”

”Hold my head higher!” interrupted Tom. ”With this on it, eh?” And he took up his ragged and worn cap from the ground, and showed it. ”Pride is a very fine thing when you can live up to it; but if you can't it's only ridiculous. I don't say,” added he, after a few minutes of silence, ”but if I was far away from this, where n.o.body knew me, where I did n't owe little debts on every side, and was n't obliged to be intimate with every idle vagabond about--I don't say but I'd try to be something better. If, for instance, I could get into the navy--”

”Why not the army? You 'd like it better.”

”Ay! but it 's far harder to get into. There's many a rough fellow like myself aboard s.h.i.+p that they would n't take in a regiment. Besides, how could I get in without interest?”

”My father is a Lieutenant-General. I don't know whether he could be of service to you.”

”A Lieutenant-General!” repeated Tom, with the reverential awe of one alluding to an actual potentate.

”Yes. He has a command out in India, where I feel full sure he could give you something. Suppose you were to go out there? I 'd write a letter to my father and ask him to befriend you.”

”It would take a fortune to pay the journey,” said Tom, despondingly.

”Not if you went out on service; the Government would send you free of cost. And even if you were not, I think we might manage it. Speak to your father about it.”

”No,” said he, slowly. ”No; but I 'll talk it over with Polly. Not but I know well she'll say, 'There you are, castle-building and romancing.

It's all moons.h.i.+ne! n.o.body ever took notice of you,--n.o.body said he 'd interest himself about you.'”

”That's easily remedied. If you like it, I 'll tell your sister all about it myself. I 'll tell her it's my plan, and I 'll show her what I think are good reasons to believe it will be successful.”

”Oh! would you--would you!” cried he, with a choking sensation in the throat; for his grat.i.tude had made him almost hysterical.

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