‘Ten to one but he is on his way home. Besides, if not, he has his own work at Canton. We see our way to very considerable advantages, if—’
‘Advantages!’ she interrupted. ‘I hate speculation. I should have thought you might be contented with your station; but that is the worst of merchants,—they never know when to stop. I suppose your ambition is to make this a great overgrown mansion, so that your father would not know it again.’
‘Certainly not that, mamma,’ said Clarence smiling; ‘it is the last thing I should think of; but stopping would in this case mean going backward.’
‘Why can’t Mr. Castleford send one of his own sons?’
‘Probably Walter may come out by and by, but he has not experience enough for this.’
Clarence had not in the least anticipated my mother’s opposition, for he had come to underestimate her affection for and reliance on him. He had us all against him, for not only could we not bear to part with him; but the climate of Hong-Kong was in evil repute, and I had become persuaded that, with his knowledge of business, railway shares and scrip might be made to realise the amount needed, but he said, ‘That is what I call speculation. The other matter is trade in which, with Heaven’s blessing, I can hope to prosper.’
He explained that Mr. Castleford had received him on his coming to London with almost a request that he would undertake this expedition; but with fears whether, in his new position, he could or would do so, although his presence in China would be very important to the firm at this juncture; and there would be opportunities which would probably result in very considerable profits after a few years. If Clarence had been, as before, a mere younger brother, it would have been thought an excellent chance; and he would almost have felt bound by his obligations to Mr. Castleford to undertake the first starting of the enterprise, if it had not been for our recent loss, and the doubt whether he could he spared from home.
He made light of the dangers of climate. He had never suffered in that way in his naval days, and scarcely knew what serious illness meant. Indeed, he had outgrown much of that sensibility of nerve which had made him so curiously open to spiritual or semi-spiritual impressions.
‘Any way,’ he said, ‘the thing is right to be done, provided my mother does not make an absolute point of my giving it up; and whether she does or not depends a good deal on how you others put it to her.’
‘Right on Mr. Castleford’s account?’ I asked.