it was on account of his invalid
brother, Sam began to show plenty of assumption and contempt for the
little rustic church.

"Why don't you have an organ?" he said.

"For two reasons, my dear young friend," said Mr Maxted. "One is that
we could not afford to buy one; the other that we have no one here who
could play it if we had. We get on very well without."

"But it sounds so comic for the clerk to go _toot_ on that whistling
thing, and then for people with such bad voices to do the singing,
instead of a regular choir, the same as we have in town."

"Dear me!" said Mr Maxted dryly, "it never sounds comic to my ears, for
there is so much sincerity in the simple act of praise. But we are
homely country people down here, and very rustic no doubt to you."

"Confounded young prig!" said Mr Maxted, as he walked back to the
Vicarage. "I felt as if I could kick him. Nice sentiments these for a
clergyman on a Sunday," he added. "But he did make me feel so cross."

"What does he mean by calling me my dear young friend?" cried Sam, as
soon as the Vicar was out of sight. "Nice time you must have of it down
here, young fellow. But it serves you right for being so cocky and
obstinate when you had such chances along with us."

Tom was silent, but felt as if he could have said a great deal, and had
the satisfaction of feeling that the gap between him and his cousin was
growing wider and wider.

"I suppose he is a far superior fellow to what I am," the boy said to
himself; "and perhaps it's my vanity, but I don't want to change."

It was the dreariest Sunday he had ever passed, but he rose the next
morning in the highest spirits, for Sam's father had told him to get off
back to town directly after breakfast.

"If Uncle James would only get better and go too," he said to himself as
he dressed, "how much pleasanter it would be!"

But Uncle James came down to breakfast moaning at every step, and
murmuring at having to leave his bed so soon. For he had been compelled
to rise on account of two or three business matters with which he wished
to charge his son; and he told every one in turn that he was very much
worse, and that he was sure Furzebrough did not agree with him; but he
ate, as Tom observed, a very hearty breakfast all the same.

David had had his own, and had started off at six o'clock to fetch the
fly, which arrived in good time, to take Sam off to meet the fast
up-train, Tom thinking to himself that it wou