Oh, I wish I could earn enough to pay for every bite every one of us eats!" To the tutor's immense relief, at this point Captain Oliphant reappeared, followed by Roger with a boy and little girl.
The boy was some years the junior of the heir of Maxfield, a rotund, matter-of-fact, jovial-looking lad, sturdy in body, easy in temper, and perhaps by no means brilliant in intellect.

The turmoil of debarkation failed to ruffle him, and the information given him in sundry quarters that he was the _fons et origo_ of all the confusion in the cabin failed to impress him.

Everything that befell Tom Oliphant came in the day's work, and would probably vanish with the night's sleep.

Meanwhile it was the duty of every one, himself included, to be jolly.

So he accepted his father's chidings and Roger's greetings in equally good part; agreed with every word the former said, and gave in his allegiance to the latter with one and the same smile, and thought to himself how jolly to be in England at last, and perhaps some day to see the Oxford and Cambridge boat-race.
The little maid who tripped at his side was perhaps ten or eleven--an odd blending of the sister's beauty and alertness with the brother's vigorous contentment.