of the town. So Jem had made great
advance toward manliness since they had come to Singleton.

Greater than David had made, some of the Gourlay people thought, who saw
both the lads about this time. Even his mother thought so for a while.
At least she thought that Jem had changed more than Davie, and more for
the better. To be sure, there had been more need, for Davie had always
been a sensible, well-behaved lad, and even the most charitable and
kindly-disposed among the neighbours could not always say that of Jem.
Davie was sensible and well-behaved still, but there was none of the
children about whom the mother had at first so many anxious thoughts as
about David.

To none of them had the father's death changed everything so much as to
him. Not that he had loved his father more than the others, but for the
last year or two he had been more with him. Both his work and his
recreation had been enjoyed with him, and all the good seemed gone from
everything to him since his father died. His new work in Singleton was
well done, and cheerfully, and the knowledge that he was for the time
the chief bread-winner of the family, would have made him do any work
cheerfully. But it was not congenial or satisfying work. For a time he
had no well defined duty, but did what was to be done at the bidding of
any one in the office, and often he was left irritable and exhausted
after a day, over which he could look back with no pleasure because of
anything that he had accomplished.

He could not fall back for recreation on his books, as his mother
suggested. He tried it oftener than she knew, but the very sight of the
familiar pages, over which he used to ponder with such interest, brought
back the "study," and the old happy days, and his father's face and
voice, and made him sick with longing for them all. There was no
comfort to be got from his books at this time. Nor from anything else.
The interest in which the little ones took in their new home and their
new companions, Jem's enthusiasm over his new master and his school
work, Violet's triumphs in her little house-keeping successes, filled
him with wonder which was not always free from anger and contempt. Even
his mother's gentle cheerfulness was all read wrong by Davie. He said
to himself that his father had been more to him than to the other
children, and that he missed him more than they, but he could not say
this of his mother; and daily seeing her patient sweetnes