"Ay! you've come to it at last. It's the best part of the whole,

isn't it? God bless the boy! and from a Whig, mind you, which makes

it the more handsome. And there's more to come still. I say, Gibson,

I think my luck is turning at last," passing him on yet another

letter to read. "That only came this morning; but I've acted on it

already, I sent for the foreman of the drainage works at once, I did;

and to-morrow, please God, they'll be at work again."

Mr. Gibson read the second letter, from Roger. To a certain degree

it was a modest repetition of what Lord Hollingford had said, with

an explanation of how he had come to take so decided a step in life

without consulting his father. He did not wish him to be in suspense

for one reason. Another was that he felt, as no one else could feel

for him, that by accepting this offer, he entered upon the kind of

life for which he knew himself to be most fitted. And then he merged

the whole into business. He said that he knew well the suffering his

father had gone through when he had had to give up his drainage works

for want of money; that he, Roger, had been enabled at once to raise

money upon the remuneration he was to receive on the accomplishment

of his two years' work; and that he had also insured his life, in

order to provide for the repayment of the money he had raised, in

case he did not live to return to England. He said that the sum he

had borrowed on this security would at once be forwarded to his

father.

Mr. Gibson laid down the letter without speaking a word for some

time; then he said,--"He'll have to pay a pretty sum for insuring his

life beyond seas."

"He's got his Fellowship money," said the Squire, a little depressed

at Mr. Gibson's remark.

"Yes; that's true. And he's a strong young fellow, as I know."

"I wish I could tell his mother," said the Squire in an under-tone.

"It seems all settled now," said Mr. Gibson, more in reply to his own

thoughts than to the Squire's remark.

"Yes!" said the Squire; "and they're not going to let the grass grow

under his feet. He's to be off as soon as he can get his scientific

traps ready. I almost wish he wasn't to go. You don't seem quite to

like it, doctor?"

"Yes, I do," said Mr. Gibson in a more cheerful tone than before. "It

can't be helped now without doing a mischief," thought he to himself.

"Why, Squire, I think it a great honour to have such a son. I envy

you, that's what I do. Here's a lad of three or four and twenty

distinguishing himself in more ways than one, and as simple and

affectionate at home as any fellow need to be--not a bit set up."




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