"I shall endeavour to deserve my good fortune, Mr. Brock."
"By the way, Angus, did your father send no message to me?"
"He spoke of you kindly and tenderly on his death-bed," replied Angus, gently; "but he sent no message."
"He gave you no letter for me?"
"None. Had he done so, I would have sent it on to you."
"I suppose he told you about our early friendship?"
"Well, no; he spoke always of you with affection, yet he gave me no details of your association with him."
"Yet Bellairs and I were his nearest and dearest," sighed the Rector; "but I should not complain. A man might forget many things in thirty years. Poor Alfred!--he was one of the best men I ever knew. I hope you will try to emulate his virtues, Angus."
"I shall do my best, Mr. Brock," said Carson, glancing at his watch. "It is getting near breakfast-time. I must return to the Manor House."
"No," said the Rector, taking the young man by the arm. "I cannot so readily part with the son of my old friend, who brings back all my youth to me. You must breakfast with me."