“As mother consents,” said Hugh, “I cannot have a different opinion; but as regards the Bank, you must know your own mind, and I shall not consent to your taking any place there till you have taken time to consider of it. It is not exciting work nor satisfying, if you are ambitious.”
“I repeat,” said Arthur, “I have chosen my lot in life. I want Mysie, and Oxley, and the Bank, if you’ll have me; and Heaven knows I think myself a lucky fellow!”
“You know,” said Hugh, “by the terms of my father’s will you have the offer, but I should wish you to consider well of it.”
“Oh, I’ll consider,” said Arthur, in rather an off-hand manner; “but why lose time? And you’ll be very busy and want help now Simpson’s getting past his work.”
“Thank you.” Hugh paused, and then said, he hardly knew how ungraciously: “I shall not interfere with you: you can, of course, do as you like. I believe I ought to speak to Mysie; but, of course, you know what she will say.”
Arthur laughed joyously, little knowing how the gay, confident sound smote on Hugh’s ears.
“You’re very good, old fellow,” he said. “Don’t imagine I think my good fortune a matter of course. But I want to hear all your adventures. We have set upon you before you have even had your dinner, which is cruel. How many girls did Jem fall a victim to? Have you brought him home safe?”
“Jem took very good care of himself. But, as you say, it is dinner time. I must see if my things have come.”
“You’ve never wished me good luck! Well, you have assured it to me, which is better.”
“Oh, yes,” said Hugh; “I wish you joy, and certainly would not be the means of interfering with your good fortune.”