with--

"What is it, uncle, that you want to tell me?"

"Not now, my boy, another time, another time," and then he would utter a
low groan.

This sort of thing took place in the dining-room, study, garden, or away
out on the common, or in sandy lanes; and at last, after having his
curiosity excited a great many times, Tom began to get tired of it, and
had hard work to keep from some pettish remark.

"But I mustn't be unkind to him, poor fellow, now he's so ill," thought
Tom; "he was very unkind to me, but I forgive him, and he's very
affectionate to me now."

This was the case, for Uncle James seemed happier when he could get Tom
alone, and hold his hand for some time; and he always ended by saying in
a whimpering voice--

"Bless you, my boy, bless you!"

"Which is very nice," said Tom to himself more than once, "but it will
sound sickly, and as if he was very weak. I can't make it out. It
seems as if the worse he is, the kinder he gets to me, and as soon as he
feels better he turns disagreeable. Oh, I am so tired of it; I wish
he'd get well."

But all the same Tom never showed his weariness, but tugged and butted
the invalid chair through the deep sand of the lanes, and sat on banks
close by it reading the newspaper to his uncle in the most patient way,
till the invalid was tired, and then dragged him back to Heatherleigh to
dinner or tea.

One evening, after a week thoroughly devoted to the visitor, who had
been more than usually exacting in the length of his rides, declining to
hold the handle and guide himself, making Tom tug him up hills and
through heavy bits of lane, along which the boy toiled away as
stubbornly as a donkey, Uncle Richard came upon him in the garden, when
he was free, for the invalid had gone to lie down.

"Well, Tom," he said.

"Well, uncle," cried the boy, looking up at him rather disconsolately.

"All our telescope-making seems to have come to an end."

"Yes, uncle."

"I suppose you mean to go back with Uncle James to town?"

"Is he going back to London?" cried the boy eagerly.

"Yes, before long; but you need not be so eager to go."

Tom stared at him.

"You are tired of Heatherleigh then?"

"Tired, uncle?"

"Yes; you've made me feel quite jealous. It's all Uncle James now. But
there, it's boy-like to want plenty of change."

"But I don't want change."

"Not want change? Why, you show it every day."

Tom stared again, and then burst out in his abrupt way-