You shall judge for yourself, and WE'LL judge for ourselves." His voice was very soft and pleasant.The only thing at all strange about him was his smile, that came and went like the ripple of firelight on the wall."You'd like to know all about us, wouldn't you? Well, until ten years ago I was selling corn in the City.Such a waste of time! But I took it very seriously then and worked, worked, worked.I worked too hard, you know, much too hard, and then I was ill--ill for a long time.When I was better corn didn't seem to be of any importance, and people thought that very odd of me.Iwas confused sometimes and called people by their wrong names, and sometimes I said what was in my head instead of saying what was in my stomach.Every one thought it very odd, and if my dear sister hadn't come to the rescue they would have locked me up--they would indeed!""Shut me up and never let me walk about--all because I didn't care for corn any more."He laughed his little chuckling laugh."But we beat them, didn't we, Dorothy? Yes, we did--and here we are! Now, you tell us your history."Miss Toms had been watching Maggie's face intently while her brother spoke, and the clear steady candour of Maggie's eyes and her calm acceptance of all that the little man said must have been reassuring.
"Now.Jim," she said, "don't bother Mrs.Trenchard.You can't expect her to tell us her history when she's calling for the first time.""Why not expect me to?" said Maggie."I've got no history.I lived in Glebeshire most of my life with my father, who was a clergyman.
Then he died and I lived with two aunts in London.Then I met Paul and he married me, and here I am!""That's not history," said Mr.Toms a little impatiently."However, I won't bother you now.You're only a child, I see.And I'm very glad to see it.I don't like grown up people.""How do you like Skeaton?" asked Miss Toms, speaking more graciously than she had done.