“Ay, and you would be surprised to hear the account he will give his sister when we go home. He picks up a world of odd things that we let slip; and that, and his great mistakes together, make his stories very strange ones sometimes.” “Yet he seems easy enough to treat and deal with. A kind heart and a little thought may do all that he wants from us.” “And all that the others want that you mentioned just now. If we let our good will have its way, without being held back and twisted by shyness and doubt, we shall be sure to please people who depend upon kindness more than any others. The only thing I cannot pardon is the giving way to shyness when——” “And yet I should guess you to be shy yourself.” “Well, so I am; and yet I should be more struck with any body being shy about helping Tim in his little devices than he himself would, though he has no shyness. It always strikes me that when these sufferers have had so much more awkwardness to get over, it is not to be pardoned that we should renew their trouble with ours. But where is Tim gone now? Slipped away in a minute! He cannot be far off; but what were we about?” Walter cast an involuntary fearful glance down the inlet, where nothing was happening, however, to disturb the solitary sea-gull which was very quietly balancing itself on the surface. “Were ye looking for the little blind lad?” asked a woman near. “He met with a friend in the throng, and they went off together.” In another minute, Tim merged from behind the awning of a stall, holding Adam by the right hand, and a huge orange in the left. “Tim said you were here,” observed Walter, “and I did not believe him. He heard you half an hour ago.” “Tim, what did you hear me saying?” “I did not catch your words, but I was sure it was your voice.” “I am glad to see you buying oranges, Adam. I suppose this orange came out of yonder rope-walk.” “Not it; and it is the last I am likely to buy; and I would not have got it for any one but Tim. I am not going to lose my settlement, I can tell you. The place that took such pains to settle me may keep me till there is work for us all again.” “Keep you! How?” “There is no lack of means. There are the rates, and fine corporation funds.” “And plenty of your sort of work wanted to be done here, it seems. There is a great call for rope-makers.” “And a great call for work among the rope-makers belonging to the town. But we of the town hold back, you observe, to see who will come forward first and lose his privileges. For my part, I mean to hold back till I can be a master, and have apprentices, and do things in proper style; and then Tim shall turn the wheel, and get money like other lads. Will you, Tim?”