“Humph!” said my aunt; “take him with you right away on your travels?”
“Yes,” said my Uncle Dick.
“But I don’t think it would be right,” said Uncle Joseph softly.
“Don’t be stupid, Joe,” said my aunt sharply; “why shouldn’t the boy go, I should like to know?”
“Oh, aunt!” I cried excitedly.
“Yes, sir, and oh, aunt, indeed!” she cried, quite mistaking my meaning. “Do you suppose that you are to stay here idling away your time all your life—and—”
“That will do,” cried Uncle Dick quickly. “Nat, my boy, I have held off from taking you before; but if your Uncle Joseph will give his consent as your guardian, you shall come with me as my pupil, companion, and son, if you will, and as far as in me lies I will do my duty by you. What say you, Joe?” he continued, as I ran to him and took his extended hands.
My aunt looked at me as if she were going to retract her permission; but she was stopped, I should say, for the first and last time in her life, by Uncle Joseph, who waved his hand and said sadly:
“It will be a great grief to me, Dick, a great grief,” he said, “and I shall miss my boy Nat very, very much; but I won’t stand in his light, Dick. I know that I can trust you to do well by the boy.”
“I will, Joe, as well as if he were my own.”