"Don't, Matt! Don't! I don't like to hear you talk so lightly," trembled Mamma. Far from allaying her suspicions, he was increasing them. "Maybe you'll go to the meeting again with Agnes, now you're back. You mean so much to me now. I want ye to be happy and there's never any happiness apart from goodness in this life, dear."
"What do you know about happiness?" he retorted. "You always looked miserable enough before."
"You'll go to the meeting with Agnes, won't ye, Matt?" she persisted. "Try just the once to please me."
"I'll see," he replied evasively. "I'll go if I want to go but don't sermonise me any more. I don't like it; I'm not used to it and I won't have it."
"I know that you'll go for my sake," she whispered, placing her worn hand on his knee. "Ye ken that Mary's away now and that I've nobody but you. You were aye my own boy!"
"I knew Mary was away, all right," he snickered. "Where is she since her little accident?"
"Hush! Hush! Don't speak like that," she returned hastily. "That's shameful talk!" She paused, shocked, then added, "She's in London, we think, but her name's forbidden in the house. For goodness sake, don't talk that way before your father."
He threw off her caressing hand.
"What do I care for Father," he blustered. "I'm a man now. I can do what I like. I'm not afraid of him any longer."
"I know that, Matt! You're a fine big man," she wheedled, “but your father's had an awfu' time since ye left. I'll rely on ye not to try his temper too much. Til just get the brunt of it if ye do. Don't tell him any of these things you've told me. He's that touchy nowadays he mightna like it. He's worried business is not what it used to be."
"It serves him right," he said sulkily, as he rose, feeling that she had, as usual, rubbed him the wrong way. "You would think I cared an anna piece what happened to him. Let him try any tricks on me and it'll be the worse for him." He made his way to the door, adding, "I'm going up for a wash now."
"That's right, Matt! Your own room's prepared. I've kept it ready for you since the day ye left. Not a soul has been in it and not a hand has touched it but my own. The bed has been well aired for you too. You go and freshen yourself up and Til lay the tea while you're upstairs." She watched him eagerly, awaiting some expression of appreciation for her forethought, but he was still offended at her and went into the hall without a word. She heard him pick up a bag and march upstairs and, straining her ears, listened to every movement he made above. She heard him go into Grandma's room, heard this new, swaggering laugh of his as he greeted the old woman with a boisterous flourish. Despite her confused disquiet, the sounds which he made above comforted her and she became filled with a glowing sense of gratitude at the feeling of his proximity; she had her own son actually in the house beside her after all these weary months of separation. She breathed a prayer of gratitude as she quickly began to make preparations for the evening meal.
Soon Nessie came bounding in. She had seen the trunks in the hall and rushed up to Manwna in a flutter, crying:
"Is he home, Mamma? What great big boxes! Where is he? I wonder if he's brought me a present from India. Oh! I want to see Matt! Where is he?" At Mrs. Brodie's word she dashed upstairs, calling out expectantly to Matt, all eagerness to see him. In a few moments, however, she came down slowly, stood again before Mamma,
this time dejectedly, frowning her little petulant frown, her swelling excitement entirely collapsed.
"I hardly knew him," she remarked, in her old-fashioned way. "He's not like our Matt a bit. He didn't seem in the least glad to see me."
"Tuts, Nessie!" exclaimed Mamma. "You're haverin'. He's had a long journey. Give him time to settle down."
"When I went in he was drinkin' something out a wee leather bottle. He said not to bother him."
"He would be doing his unpackin', child. Don't be so impatient. He's got other things to think of just now, f orb ye you."
"When I asked him about my compass he said he had thrown it away he said something I didna understand something about it bein' like your nose."
Mrs. Brodic coloured deeply, but made no reply. She felt sure that Nessie must be making some mistake, must have misconstrued the remark, yet her heart was heavy at the thought of what might have been implied.
"I thought he might have brought me a wee string o' coral beads or something like that," persisted Nessie. "Grandma's real upset too; she thought he might have minded her with a keepsake. He seems to have brought nothing for anybody."
"Don't be selfish, Nessie!" cried Mamma sharply, venting all her pent-up feeling in this rebuke. "Your brother has enough to do with his money without squandering it on you. Not another word out of your head! Away and call Grandma down to make the toast," and, pursing her lips closely together, Mrs. Brodie inclined her head more rigidly to its angle of endurance, set herself resignedly to arrange the tea things upon the table.
When tea time drew near, Matthew came down to the kitchen, A faint flush tinged the yellow of the skin around his prominent cheek bones, his speech was more profuse than when he had arrived, and, detecting a faint but suggestive odour upon his breath, instantly Mamma knew that he had been fortifying himself for the meeting with his father. Observing him covertly she perceived that, despite
his vaunting talk, he dreaded this coming encounter; at once her recent humiliation was forgotten and all her instincts rose again to his protection.
"Sit down by the table, on your chair, son! Don't tire yourself out any more."
"'S all right, Mamma," he replied. "I'll keep on my pins. Been cramped up travelling these last few days. I like to stretch myself a bit." He moved restlessly about the room, nervously fingering everything within reach, looking repeatedly at the clock, and getting in her way as she passed to and from the table.
Grandma Brodie, who had entered behind him and now sat by the fireside, called out:
"Man! You're like a knotless thread. Is that a habit you've picked up off these black men, to wander about like that? It fair makes my head giddy to look at ye." She was still bitter about not having received a present from him.
Eventually he sat down, joining the others at the table. In spite of all his resistance, the approach of half-past five was cowing him; all the firm resolutions which he had formed for days past to stand up to his father and assert himself as a man of the world began to ooze from him, and his especial determination to maintain a nonchalant assurance at this first interview gradually wilted. Coming home, it had been easy for him to tell himself that he cared nothing for his father now, as he sat in his old chair at the same table and within the same unaltered room, waiting, his ears anxiously alert for that firm heavy footstep, the overwhelming sweep of old associations deluged him and, losing all his acquired dash and hardihood, he became the nervously expectant youth once more. Instinctively he turned to his mother and to his annoyance found her limpid eye regarding him with a sympathetic understanding. He saw that she appreciated his emotions, that his apprehension was apparent to her, and a furious resentment against her stirred him as he exclaimed:
"What are you looking at now? It's enough to make a man jump when you look at him like that." He stared at her angrily until she lowered her eyes.
At half-past five the well-remembered click of the door startled him; the sound was exactly to the second, for Brodie, after a prolonged period of irregularity in his meals, had now resumed, with an utter disregard for business, his habits of scrupulous punctuality. Now, as his father came into the room, Matthew gathered himself together, controlled the movements of his hands, prepared himself for a bitter onslaught of words. But Brodie did not speak, did not once
look at his son. He sat down and began to partake comfortably of his tea, which he seemed to enjoy immensely. Matthew was abashed. In all his visualisations of the meeting, nothing like this had ever occurred and now he had an almost irresistible impulse to cry out, like a schoolboy in disgrace, "Look, Father, I'm here! Take notice of me!"