and furniture. My
dear old cousin, and how are you?"

"I am very quiet, Tom. I am much happier than I thought to have been.
And I am deeply thankful to see you again."

"How is my boy, Tom?" said the Major.

"And how is my girl, Tom?" said the Captain.

"Sam," said Tom, "is a sight worth a guinea, and Mrs. Samuel looks
charming, but--In point of fact you know I believe she expects--"

"No!" said the Captain. "You don't say so."

"Fact, my dear sir."

"Dear me," said the Major, drumming on the table. "I hope it will be a
b--. By the bye, how go the sheep?"

"You never saw such a country, sir!" said Tom. "We have got nearly five
thousand on each run, and there is no one crowding up yet. If we can
hold that ground with our produce, and such store-sheep as we can pick
up, we shall do wonders."

By this time Tom was set at supper, and between the business of
satisfying a hunger of fifteen hours, began asking after old friends.

"How are the Mayfords?" he asked.

"Poor Mrs. Mayford is better," said Mrs. Buckley. "She and Ellen are
just starting for Europe. They have sold their station, and we have
bought it."

"What are they going to do in England?" asked Tom.

"Going to live with their relations in Hampshire."

"Ellen will be a fine match for some young English squire," said Tom.
"She will have twenty thousand pounds some day, I suppose."

And then we went on talking about other matters.

A little scene took place in the garden next morning, which may
astonish some of my readers, but which did not surprise me in the
least. I knew it would happen, sooner or later, and when I saw Tom's
air, on his arrival the night before, I said to myself, "It is coming,"
and so sure enough it did. And I got all the circumstances out of Tom
only a few days afterwards.

Mary Hawker was now a very handsome woman, about one and forty. There
may have been a grey hair here and there among her long black tresses,
but they were few and far between. I used to watch her sometimes of an
evening, and wonder to myself how she had come through such troubles,
and lived; and yet there she was on the night when Tom arrived, for
instance, sitting quite calm and cheerful beside the fire in her
half-mourning (she had soon dropped her weeds, perhaps, considering who
her husband had been, a piece of good taste), with quite a placid,
contented look on her fine black eyes. I think no one was capable of
feeling deeper for a time, but her power