t at first, being busy over his horse; until, just as the
notion flashed across my mind that he was passing by our house--also,
how keenly his doing so would pain me--the lad looked up.

A beaming smile of surprise and pleasure, a friendly nod, then all at
once his manner changed; he took off his cap, and bowed ceremoniously
to his master's son.

For the moment I was hurt; then I could not but respect the honest
pride which thus intimated that he knew his own position, and wished
neither to ignore nor to alter it; all advances between us must
evidently come from my side. So, having made his salutation, he was
driving on, when I called after him,

"John! John!"

"Yes, sir. I am so glad you're better again."

"Stop one minute till I come out to you." And I crawled on my crutches
to the front door, forgetting everything but the pleasure of meeting
him--forgetting even my terror of Jael. What could she say? even
though she held nominally the Friends' doctrine--obeyed in the letter
at least, 'Call no man your master'--what would Jael say if she found
me, Phineas Fletcher, talking in front of my father's respectable
mansion with the vagabond lad who drove my father's cart of skins?

But I braved her, and opened the door. "John, where are you?"

"Here" (he stood at the foot of the steps, with the reins on his arm);
"did you want me?"

"Yes. Come up here; never mind the cart."

But that was not John's way. He led the refractory horse, settled him
comfortably under a tree, and gave him in charge to a small boy. Then
he bounded back across the road, and was up the steps to my side in a
single leap.

"I had no notion of seeing you. They said you were in bed yesterday."
(Then he HAD been inquiring for me!) "Ought you to be standing at the
door this cold day?"

"It's quite warm," I said, looking up at the sunshine, and shivering.

"Please go in."

"If you'll come too."

He nodded, then put his arm round mine, and helped me in, as if he had
been a big elder brother, and I a little ailing child. Well nursed and
carefully guarded as I had always been, it was the first time in my
life I ever knew the meaning of that rare thing, tenderness. A quality
different from kindliness, affectionateness, or benevolence; a quality
which can exist only in strong, deep, and undemonstrative natures, and
therefore in its perfection is oftenest found in men. John Halifax had
it more than any one, woman or man, that I ever