Don't leave me! Only don't leave me, for the room is as full of devils as--" * * * * * An hour after, Tom and Tardrew were walking home together.
"He is quite quiet now, and fast asleep." "Will he mend, sir ?" asks Tardrew.
"Of course, he will: and perhaps in more ways than one.

Best thing that could have happened--will bring him to his senses, and he'll start fresh." "We'll hope so,--he's been mad, I think, ever since he heard of that cholera." "So have others: but not with brandy," thought Tom: but he said nothing.
"I say, sir," quoth Tardrew, after a while, "how's Parson Headley ?" "Getting well, I'm happy to say." "Glad to hear it, sir.

He's a good man, after all; though we did have our differences.

But he's a good man, and worked like one." "He did." Silence again.
"Never heard such beautiful prayers in all my life, as he made over my poor maid." "I don't doubt it," said Tom.

"He understands his business at heart, though he may have his fancies." "And so do some others," said Tardrew in a gruff tone, as if half to himself, "who have no fancies....