The details of business, in London or elsewhere, are neither monotonous nor wearying to properly constituted minds; nor are they inconsonant with good taste and good education. There are men, old and young, and in every proper sense of the word true gentlemen, who belong to houses of business all the world over, and who yet have more true taste for the beautiful in nature and art, more cultivation of mind, and greater scientific and literary acquirements, than are to be found in one half of the frequenters of fashionable salons. And yet these same persons are energetic men of business, and possess talents which, if need were, would qualify them for conducting the affairs of a nation almost as easily, and quite as successfully, as those of a mercantile firm.
Such a person as this was the principal partner in the house with which Elliston and Grigson were connected; and this gentleman—who had by this time become a member of Parliament—took a strong fancy to young Tom, almost on his first entrance into the house. Under his auspices, the lad was not only pushed forward in the higher departments Of business, but was introduced to some circles in society, intercourse with which gave a zest to the everyday and more prosaic details of London life.
It is scarcely to be wondered at, therefore, that, after a short time, the young man was sufficiently satisfied with his present position to desire no change. In other words, his visions of university life gradually faded away, and nothing more was said or thought of entering him at Oxford.
To compensate—if compensation were needed—for this deprivation, which cannot be called a disappointment, Tom was indulged, at the end of his second year's experience in business life, with a long holiday ramble on the Continent, whence he returned full of enthusiastic admiration for Alpine scenery and adventures, but with more energy than ever for the common concerns and ordinary duties of his worldly calling.
Nor were the attractions of home very feeble for young Grigson. A pleasant villa, a good-tempered father, who did not draw the cords of discipline over tightly, an indulgent mother, a tolerably harmonious brood of younger brothers and sisters, a select circle of friends, occasional visitors, serviceable domestics, a horse to ride when he pleased, a sailing-boat on, if not one of the loveliest rivers in the world, yet a very passable one as rivers go, and time enough to enjoy these luxuries of existence, and not too much, so as to breed ennui. If with all these acquisitions any young fellow overflowing with bodily health and animal spirits could not be reasonably happy, that young fellow was not our young Tom.
There was only one little ingredient in this cup of happiness which now and then gave a slight flavour to it which was not altogether to young Grigson's taste.
"I wish they had left me to choose for myself," said Tom, one day, to his sister Catherine, who was only a year, or a little more, younger than himself.
They were having a quiet sail on the river one summer's evening, and were seated side by side at the stern, Tom with the sail under his management.
"But you like Blanche, don't you, Tom?"
"Oh, don't I?" Tom rejoined, lightly.