TOM LEARNS WHAT IS UP.
WHEN Tom came down stairs to supper he was struck by the naked
appearance of the table. The Middletons had returned to their old
economical fare. Mr. Middleton looked sober, and his wife had a
forbidding aspect.
“Very jolly this!” thought our hero as he sat down in his usual place.
“A little more milk, if you please,” said Tom as Mrs. Middleton passed
his tea, diluted by a spoonful of milk.
“I have given you as much as I take myself,” said Corinthia sourly.
Tom reached over without a word, and taking the milk-pitcher, used what
he wanted.
Mrs. Middleton’s sallow face flushed.
“Did you see that, Mr. Middleton?” she demanded.
“I did, my dear.”
“What do you think of it?”
“I think it very ill-bred.”
Tom looked from one to the other attentively. He didn’t know what to
make of the change in their demeanor.
“Has milk risen in price?” he asked.
“No,” said Mr. Middleton, embarrassed.
“Then why am I to be stinted? Don’t I pay enough board to entitle me to
a decent supply?”
This was a difficult question to answer. Whatever the future had in
store for him, Tom was certainly at this moment paying twenty dollars a
week for his board.
“You make a great fuss about your victuals,” said Corinthia, not very
elegantly.
“I don’t care about being starved in order that you may make a little
more money,” retorted Tom.
“Do you hear that, Mr. Middleton?” ejaculated the lady angrily.
“Young man,” said Mr. Middleton solemnly, “you should not speak lightly
of starving. The time may come when you will want for food.”
“The time has come already, it seems to me,” said Tom with spirit. “I
should like some meat.”
“There is no meat on the table.”
“I suppose there is some in the house,” said Tom quietly.
“You can do without it,” said Corinthia spitefully.
“Will you tell me if anything has happened?” asked Tom, laying down his
knife and fork. “Probably there is some cause for your change of
treatment.”
“Something _has_ happened,” said Mrs. Middleton with a look of spiteful
exultation.
“I should like to hear what it is.”
“You have lost your fortune.”
“That accounts for it,” said Tom significantly. “I am no longer
surprised. As I am rather interested, will you be kind enough to let me
know all about it?”
“Tell him, Nathan,” said Corinthia.
“Ahem!” said Mr. Middleton. “I regret to communicate bad tidings, but I
was at Centerville this morning, and learned from Mr. Sharp that through
the bad way in which your money was invested when it came into his
hands, the whole has melted away, and you are a beggar.”
“Not quite,” said Tom proudly. “I may be poor, but no one will ever see
me beg.”
“You’ll have to earn your own living,” said Mrs. Middleton spitefully.
“You won’t find it for your interest to turn up your nose at your
victuals.”
“I am more likely to turn up my nose at the want of them—as to-night,”
answered Tom.
“You’ll be lucky if you always fare as well.”
“Perhaps so. Will you tell me, Mr. Middleton, if my whole fortune is
gone? Is nothing left?”
“A few hundred dollars remain, I believe.”
“That is better than nothing. So I must now make my own way.”
“I am glad you see it,” sneered Corinthia.
“It seems to me rather a sudden collapse,” said Tom thoughtfully. “I
must ask Mr. Sharp about it.”
“Mr. Sharp wishes you to come to Centerville to-morrow. You will find
that my statement is perfectly correct.”
“I don’t doubt it,” said Tom. “If you and Mrs. Middleton were not quite
convinced that my fortune was gone, you wouldn’t have treated me as you
have this afternoon.”
“Good gracious, Corinthia! Do you hear that?” ejaculated Nathan.
“I hear it, Mr. Middleton, and I am not surprised,” said the lady
venomously. “This is our reward for toiling day and night for this
ungrateful boy. This is our reward for permitting him to upset all our
plans and run riot through the house. And this is gratitude! Oh,
heavens!”
“No, it isn’t,” said Tom. “I don’t see any cause for gratitude, and I
haven’t pretended to feel any. You’ve had twenty dollars a week for my
board, when I could get as good anywhere else for one-third the price,
or some less. I think it’s you that ought to be grateful.”
“Do you hear that, Nathan? It’s an outrage.”
“I hear it, Corinthia, and I agree,” said her husband solemnly.
“May I ask if I am paying at the rate of twenty dollars a week for this
supper?” inquired Tom.
Mr. Middleton was in a quandary. The bill had been paid up to that day,
but for the extra portion of a day he meant to deduct payment out of the
three dollars which had been given for Tom’s traveling expenses. He
could not do this with any fairness unless decent meals were supplied.
“Corinthia,” he said, “you had better send for some meat.”
“Why should I? I don’t think it necessary,” said the lady reluctantly.
“I have my reasons, which you will acknowledge to be good. I will
explain to you afterward.”
Mrs. Middleton complied with her husband’s request, but with no great
show of willingness.
“As this is your last supper under my roof,” he said to Tom while his
wife was gone for the meat, “I wish you to be satisfied.”
“Then I am not to return to Plympton?” said Tom.
“No; it will probably be necessary for you to work for your living at
once. You may, perhaps, go into a shoe-shop, or learn the carpenter’s
trade.”
“Did Mr. Sharp say that?”
“No; I only suggested it.”
“Thank you. Perhaps you would take me into your office to learn the
insurance business.”
“Not with _my_ consent,” said Mrs. Middleton, who reappeared in time to
hear Tom’s question.
“I don’t think it would be advisable,” said Nathan.
“Then perhaps I shall have to go into a shoe-shop, as you suggest. If
there should be an opening in Plympton, perhaps you would give me your
trade for the sake of old times.”
“Perhaps so,” said Nathan dubiously.
Tom helped himself to the meat, and in spite of the bad news he had
heard, displayed his usual good appetite.
“I really believe,” Corinthia remarked afterward to her husband, “that
boy would eat if the house was on fire.”
“Very likely,” said Nathan. “He’s a strange boy.”
At length Tom rose from the table.
“As I’m going to-morrow,” he said, “I will make my farewell calls, and
then come home and pack my trunk.”
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