"Oh, well, for a young fellow like you, bound to get on--" He dropped
this line to take up another. "I'm thinking about Guy. Occurred to me
the other day that while he'd been dragged about Europe a good many
times he didn't know anything of his own country. Never been west of
the Hudson."
Tom smoked and wondered.
"I've suggested to him to take his summer's vacation and wander
about. Get the lay of the land. Could cover a good deal of ground in
three months. Zigzag up and down--Niagara--Colorado--Chicago--Grand
Canyon--California--Seattle--back if he liked by the Canadian Pacific.
What would you think?"
"I think it would be great."
"Would you go with him?"
It seemed to Tom that his brain was spinning round. Not only was he too
dazed to find words, but the question of money came first. How could he
afford ...?
But Ansley went on again. "It's a choice between you and a tutor.
My wife would like a tutor. Guy wants you. So do I. You'd have your
traveling expenses, of course--do everything the same as Guy--and, let
us say, five hundred dollars for your time. Would that suit you?"
He didn't know how to answer. Excitement, gratitude, and a sense
of insufficiency churned together and choked him. It was only by
spluttering and stammering that he could say at last:
"If--if Mrs. Ansley--d-doesn't w-want me--"
"Oh, she'd give in. Simply feels that Guy'd get more good out of it if
he had some one to point out moral lessons as he went along. I don't.
Two young fellows together, if they're at all the right kind, 'll do
each other more good than all the law and the prophets."
"But would you mind telling me, sir, something of what you'd expect
from me?"
"Oh, nothing! Just play round with him, and have a good time. You seem
to chum up with him all right."
Tom was distressed. "Yes, sir, but if I'm to be--to be paid for
chumming up with him I should have to--"
"Forget it. I want Guy to take the trip. It's not the kind of trip
anyone wants to take alone, and you're the fellow he'd like to have
with him. I'd like it too. You understand him."
He turned round to knock the ash from his cigar into the dying fire.
"Trouble with Guy is that he has no sense of values. Thing he needs to
learn is what's worth while and what's not. I don't want you to teach
him. I just want him to _see_. What do you say?"
Tom hung his head, not from humility but to think out a point that
troubled him.
"You know, sir"--he looked up again--"that when Guy and I get together
we talk about things that--well, that you mightn't like."
"I don't care a hang what you talk about."
"Yes, sir; but this is something particular."
"Well, then, keep it to yourself."
"I can't keep it to myself because--because some day you might think
that I'd had a bad ... as long as we've just been chums ... and I
wasn't paid--"
Ansley moved away from the fireplace, striding up and down in front of
it.
"Look here, my boy! I know what young fellows are. I know you talk
about things you wouldn't bring up before Mrs. Ansley and me. I don't
care. It's what I expect. Do you both good. You're not specially
vicious, either of you, and even if you were--"
"It's not a matter of morals, sir; it's one of opinions."