"Never mind, though; you'll be back next half. And I
shan'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 downstairs to his study, where he sat till old Thomas came
kicking at the door, to tell him his allowance would be stopped if he
didn't go off to bed. (It would have been stopped anyhow, but that he
was a great favourite with the old gentleman, who loved to come out in
the afternoons into the close to Tom's wicket, and bowl slow twisters to
him, and talk of the glories of bygone Surrey heroes, with whom he
had played 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 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.
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