o himself. A horrid notion came into his head. She
might be fond of Tom! Did she not once save his life? Had she not, even
when a child, pleaded that something ought to be done for him? Had she
not affirmed that he was indispensable? Had she not inquired again about
him that very day? Had she not openly expressed her contempt for that
most eligible person, Mr. Colston? He determined to watch most strictly,
and again he resolved to dismiss his assistant. A trifling increase in
his attention to small matters should enable him to do this within a
month or two. It would be as well for Mrs. Furze to watch too. After
supper Catharine went to bed early, and her father hung out the white
flag, to which friendly response was given directly the subject of his
communications was apparent. It became a basis of almost instantaneous
reconciliation, and Mrs. Furze, mindful of the repulse of the brewer's
son and the ruin of her own scheme thereon built, hated Tom more than
ever. It was Tom, then, who had prevented admission into Eastthorpe
society.

CHAPTER XII

Mr. Tom Catchpole had never had any schooling. What he had learned he
had learned by himself, and the books he had read were but few, and
chosen rather by chance. He had never had the advantage of the common
introduction to the world of ideas which is given, in a measure, to all
boys who are systematically taught by teachers, and consequently, not
knowing the relative value of what came before him, his perspective and
proportion were incorrect. His mind, too, was essentially plain. He was
perfect in his loyalty to duty; he was, as we have seen, very good in
business matters, had a clear head, and could give shrewd advice upon any
solid, matter-of-fact difficulty, but the spiritual world was
non-existent for him. He attended chapel regularly, for he was a
Dissenter, but his reasons for going, so far as he had any, were very
simple. There was a great God in heaven, against whom he had sinned and
was perpetually sinning. To save himself from the consequences of his
transgressions certain means were provided and he was bound to use them.
On Monday morning chapel and all thoughts connected with it entirely
disappeared, but he said his prayers twice a day with great regularity.
There are very few, however, of God's creatures to whom the supernatural
does not in some way present itself, and no man lives by bread alone. To
Tom, Catharine was miracle, soul,