would restore him to her.
The vision of his return hung before her, dazzled her with its imminence, yet as she looked idly out of the window and gradually observed that a cab, loaded with luggage, had driven up at the gate, her brow became furrowed incredulously, as if she failed to believe what she saw. It could not be Matt her boy her own son and yet, miraculously, it was he, home to her at last, stepping out of the cab nonchalantly, as though he had not traversed three thousand miles of sea and land to come to her. With an incoherent cry she
raised herself, stumbled to her feet, ran precipitately out of the house
and had enveloped him in her arms almost before he was out of the cab.
'Matt!' she panted, overcome by the excess of her feelings. 'Oh! Matt!'
He started back a little, protesting,
'Half a chance, Mamma. Take it easy. You'll smother me if you go on like that.'
'Oh! Matt! My dear boy!' she whispered. 'You're back to me at last.'
'Whoa up, Mamma!' he cried. 'Don't weep all over me. I'm used to a dry climate. There now! Don't make a hankerchief of my new tie.'
At his protests she at last relinquished her embrace, but would not altogether let him go, and clutching his sleeve fondly, as though fearful that she might again lose him, exclaimed fervently:
'I can hardly believe I've got you back again, son. It's a sight for my tired eyes to see you, for I was thinking about you the minute you drove up. I've missed you wearily, wearily!'
'Well, we're certainly here again, old girl,' he quizzed her; 'back to the same old Levenford, same old ancestral home, and same old Mamma!'
Mrs. Brodie looked at him dotingly. Everything here might be the same, but he had altered, was profoundly different from the raw youth who had left her only two years ago.
'My! Matt!' she cried. 'You've got a real smart look about you. There's an air about you that fair takes my breath away. You're a man now, my son!'
'That's right,' he agreed, surveying his surroundings rather than her. 'I've learned a thing or two since I saw you last. I'll show them some style in this old Borough before very long. Gad ! But everything here seems poky compared with what I've been used to.' Then, turning commandingly to the cabby he shouted:
'Bring in my luggage, you! Jilde!'
She observed proudly that he who had departed with one small, brass-bound chest now returned with a galaxy of bags and trunks; and could he, on that memorable day when she had let him go fluttering from under her wings, have addressed a cabman in terms of such autocratic disdain? She could not forbear from expressing her fond admiration at the change as she followed his swaggering figure into the hall.
'Oh! That's nothing,' he exclaimed carelessly; 'I've been used to a retinue of servants out there blacks, you know and a man gets so accustomed to ordering them about, 'tis no trouble to make this old gharry wallah jump to it. Pay him, though, will you, Mamma! I happen to have run out of change at the moment.' His look conveyed a sense of superiority to the task of paying a mere cabman and, with a final condescending survey, he moved off and entered the house.
Mamma ran for her purse and at once settled with the man and as she returned, closing the front door securely lest her son might suddenly be taken from her again, the pile of boxes in the hall gladdened her; her heart sang joyously the words: 'He's back! Matt's back for good!'
She rejoined him in the kitchen where he was reclining in the armchair, his legs extended, his arms drooping over the sides of the chair, his whole pose indicative of fashionable ennui.
'Rather fatiguing journey!' he murmured, without moving his head. 'I find the trains in this country very noisy. Give a man a confounded headache.'
'Rest ye rest ye then, my boy,' she exclaimed. 'You're home now, that's the main thing.' She paused, having so many things to say that she did not know where to begin, yet realising that before she could permit herself to indulge her selfish curiosity, she must restore his strength with some honest food prepared by her own loving hands. 'I'm dying to hear all about it, Matt,' she said; 'but let me get you a bite of something first.'
He waved the suggestion of food aside.
'Yes, dear a little cold ham or a cup of lentil soup. You could surely take that. You mind that nice nourishing soup I used to make for you. You were always fond of it.'
Matt shook his head definitely, saying, 'I don't want to eat just now. I'm used to a late dinner at night now besides, I had a snack in Glasgow.'
She was slightly disheartened, but still insisted. 'You'll be thirsty after your journey, son. Have a cup of tea. There's nobody can make it like me.'
'All right, then,' he assented. 'Go ahead, if that's the best you can do!'
She did not quite grasp his meaning, but rushed in a passion of love to get him the tea, and when she brought him the large steaming cup she seated herself upon a low stool before him, watching with hungry eyes his every gesture. He was not discomposed by her eager stare but, as he sipped his tea, he casually drew a bright leather case from his pocket and, extracting a thick cheroot, withdrew the straw from it and lit up, demonstrating more plainly than words could tell that he was master of himself, a finished man of the world.
Whilst she studied his easy gestures and admired the fashionable negligence of his suit of smooth, light cloth, she became aware with some concern that his face had altered, grown older than she had expected. His eyes, particularly, had aged and seemed darker than before, with a fine network of wrinkles besetting the corners of the lids; his features had sharpened, his complexion turned to a more sallow, even yellowish tinge, whilst his cheeks seemed to be tightly stretched upon the framework of his jaws. She felt convinced now that some harsh and bitter experience had marred his separation from her and, deeming him to have recovered somewhat, her tone was gentle as she said:
'Tell me, Matt, all about it.'
He regarded her from beneath his half-closed eyes, and replied abruptly, 'About what?'
'Oh! Just everything, son! Ye can't deceive your mother's eyes. Somebody's been hard on you unjust too. But I know so little. Tell me how you left India and what what happened on the way back!'
His eyes opened more fully and, waving his cigar, he immediately grew voluble.
'Oh! That!' he said. 'That's soon explained. There's nothing to tell there. I simply threw up my job because it got on my nerves! To be quite honest, Mamma, I couldn't stand the damned dock wallah who ran the office. Everything was a fault with him. If a man were a bit late in the morning, after an evening at the club, or if there happened to be a day taken off work just for a little social engagement you know he was simply unbearable.' He contemplated her with an injured air as he drew at his cigar, and added indignantly, 'You know how I could never abide being put upon. I was never the one to endure being bossed about by any one. It's not my nature. So I told him in plain language what I thought and walked out on him.'
'Did ye not speak to Mr. Waldie about it, Matt?' she queried, sharing his resentment. 'He's a Levenford man and a good man He has a great name for fairness.'
'It's him I mean, the soor!' retorted Matthew bitterly. 'He's the very one that tried to drive me like a coolie. Not a gentleman!' he added. 'Nothing but a damned, psalm-singing slave driver.'
Mamma's expression grew vaguely troubled and confused.
'Was that the reason of it, son? It wasna right if he did that to you.' She paused, then ventured timidly, 'We thought it might be your health?'
'Health's as sound as a bell,' said Matthew sulkily. 'It was the blasted job. I liked everything else out there. It was a fine life if I had been left alone. But he won't cook me, the old swine. I'll go abroad again Burma! Or Malay this time. I'll never stay in this rotten place after what I've seen.'
Mrs. Brodie's heart sank. Here was her son barely home, restored only this moment to her arms, and in the next breath he talked of leaving her, of returning, like Alexander, to attempt fresh conquests in these wild foreign lands which terrified her.
'Yell not be thinkin' of that for a bit, dear,' she quavered. 'Maybe you'll get a post at home that would suit you better. Then you wouldna need to leave me again.'
He laughed shortly.
'Do you believe I could live in a hole like this after the kind of life I've had out there ? What can you offer me here to make up for it? Think of it,' he cried. 'I had the club, dinners at the mess, dances, the races, polo matches, servants to wait on me hand and foot every single thing I could want.'
