He stood, still looking up, for many minutes, then his eyes closed, the lashes all wet.
"We'll never speak of this again, Phineas; I'll not grieve thee any more; I'll try and be a better brother to thee for the future.

Come along!" He drew my arm in his, and we went home.
Passing the tan-yard John proposed that we should call for my father.
My poor father; now daily growing more sour and old, and daily leaning more and more upon John, who never ceased to respect, and make every one else respect, his master.

Though still ostensibly a 'prentice, he had now the business almost entirely in his hands.

It was pleasant to see how my father brightened up at his coming--how readily, when he turned homeward, he leaned upon John's strong arm, now the support of both him and me.

Thus we walked through Norton Bury streets, where everybody knew us, and indeed, as it seemed to me this morning, nearly everybody greeted us--at least, one of us; but my father walked along soberly and sternly, frowning at almost every salutation John Halifax received.
"Thee art making far too many friends, John.