flesh and blood, our only bairn, and if thou'rt
not all as a man could wish it's mebby been the
fault on our pride i' thee. It 'ud kill the
missus if he went off to Amerikay, and Bess,
too, the lass as thinks so much on him." The
speech originally addressed to his son, had
wandered off into a monologue—as keenly listened
to by Benjamin, however, as if it had all been
spoken to him. After a pause of consideration
his father turned round. "Yon man—I wunnot
call him a friend o' yourn, to think of asking
you for such a mint o' money—is not th' only
one, I'll be bound, as could give ye a start i' th'
law? Other folks 'ud, mebby, do it for less?"

"Not one of 'em; to give me equal advantages,"
said Benjamin, thinking he perceived
signs of relenting.

"Well, then, thou mayst tell him that it's
neither he nor thee as 'll see th' sight o' three
hunder pound o' my money. I'll not deny as
I've a bit laid up again a rainy day; it's not so
much as thatten though, and a part on it is for
Bessy, as has been like a daughter to us."

"But Bessy is to be your real daughter some
day, when I've a home to take her to," said
Benjamin; for he played very fast and loose, even
in his own mind, with his engagement with
Bessy. Present with her, when she was looking
her brightest and best, he behaved to her as if
they were engaged lovers: absent from her, he
looked upon her rather as a good wedge, to be
driven into his parent's favour on his behalf.
Now, however, he was not exactly untrue in
speaking as if he meant to make her his wife; for
the thought was in his mind, though he made
use of it to work upon his father.

"It will be a dree day for us, then," said the
old man. "But God'll have us in his keeping,
and 'll mebby be taking more care on us i' heaven
by that time than Bess, good lass as she is, has
had on us at Nab-end. Her heart is set on
thee, too. But, lad, I hanna gotten the three
hunder; I keeps my cash i' th' stocking, thou
knowst, till it reaches fifty pound, and then I
takes it to Ripon Bank. Now the last scratch
they're gi'en me, made it just two hunder, and I
hanna but on to fifteen pound yet i' the stockin',
and I meant one hunder an' the red cow's calf
to be for Bess, she's ta'en such pleasure like i'
rearing it."

Benjamin gave a sharp glance at his father to
see if he was telling the truth; and, that a
suspicion of the old man, his father, had entered into
the son's head, tells enough of his own character.

"I canna do it — I canna do it, for sure—
although I shall like to think as I had helped
on the wedding. There's the black heifer to be
sold yet, and she'll fetch a matter of ten pound;
but a deal on't will be needed for seed-corn, for
the arable did but bad last year, and I thought I
would try—I'll tell thee what, lad! I'll make
it as though Bess lent thee her hunder, only
thou must give her a writ of hand for it, and thou
shalt have a' the money i' Ripon Bank, and see
if the lawyer wunnot let thee have a share of
what he offered thee for three hunder, for two.
I dunnot mean for to wrong him, but thou must
get a fair share for the money. At times I
think thou'rt done by folk ; now, I wadna
have you cheat a bairn of a brass farthing: same
time I wadna have thee so soft as to be cheated."

To explain this, it should be told that some of
the bills which Benjamin had received money
from his father to pay, had been altered so as to
include other and less creditable expenses which
the young man had incurred; and the simple
old farmer, who had still much faith left in him
for his boy, was acute enough to perceive that
he had paid above the usual price for the articles
he had purchased.

After some hesitation, Benjamin agreed to
receive this two hundred, and promised to
employ it to the best advantage in setting
himself up in business. He had, nevertheless, a
strange hankering after the additional fifteen
pounds that was left to accumulate in the stocking.
It was his, he thought, as heir to his father,
and he soon lost some of his usual complaisance
for Bessy that evening, as he dwelt on the idea
that there was money being laid by for her, and
grudged it to her even in imagination. He thought
more of this fifteen pound that he was not to
have, than of all the hardly-earned and humbly-
saved two hundred that he was to come into
possession of. Meanwhile Nathan was in
unusual spirits that evening. He was so generous
and affectionate at heart that he had an
unconscious satisfaction in having helped two
people on the road to happiness by the sacrifice
of the greater part of his property. The very
fact of having trusted his son so largely, seemed
to make Benjamin more worthy of trust in his
father's estimation. The sole idea he tried to
banish was, that, if all came to pass as he hoped,
both Benjamin and Bessy would be settled far
away from Nab-end; but then he had a child-
like reliance that "God would take care of him
and his missus, somehow or anodder. It wur o'
no use looking too far ahead."

Bessy had to hear many unintelligible jokes
from her uncle that night; for he made no doubt
that Benjamin had told her all that had passed,
whereas the truth was, his son had said never
a word to his cousin on the subject.

When the old couple were in bed, Nathan
told his wife of the promise he had made
to his son, and the plan in life which the
advance of the two hundred was to
promote. Poor Hester was a little startled at
the sudden change in the destination of the
sum, which she had long thought of with
secret pride as "money i' th' bank." But she
was willing enough to part with it, if necessary,
for Benjamin. Only, how such a sum could be
necessary, was the puzzle. But even this
perplexity was jostled out of her mind by the
overwhelming idea, not only of "our Ben" settling
in London, but of Bessy going there too as his
wife. This great trouble swallowed up all care
about money, and Hester shivered and sighed all
the night through with distress. In the morning,
as Bessy was kneading the bread, her aunt,
who had been sitting by the fire in an unusual
manner for one of her active habits, said: