the clear chalk streams, and the emerald water meadows and great elms
and willows of the dear old Royal county, as he gloried to call it. And
the mother sat on quiet and loving, rejoicing in their life. The
quarter-to-ten struck, and the bell rang for bed before they had well
begun their talk, as it seemed.

Then Tom rose with a sigh to go.

"Shall I see you in the morning, Geordie?" said he, as he shook his
friend's hand. "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 in 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."

I leave you all to guess how he slept, and what he dreamt of.

CHAPTER VII.

HARRY EAST'S DILEMMAS AND DELIVERANCES.

"The Holy Supper is kept indeed,
In whatso we share with another's need--
Not that which we give, but what we share,
For the gift without the giver is bare:
Who bestows himself with his alms feeds three,
Himself, his hungering neighbour, and Me."
_The Vision of Sir Launfal._--LOWELL, p. 11.

THE next morning, after breakfast, Tom, East, and Gower met as usual to
learn their second lesson to