"Only what is due from your father's wages, and that won't keep us long."
Susie had gone to bed, and there was no one in the room but mother and son. Mrs. Hartland sat by the window with some needlework in her hand, though it was too dark to sew; Jim stood by the mantelpiece, fumbling nervously with a button on his jacket.
Presently he said bravely, "I must leave school and get a place somewhere. I daresay I can earn something, if only a little."
It cost him an effort to say this without breaking down, for he was very ambitious, and had mapped out a great career for himself. In the first place he had made up his mind to win the Gayton Scholarship, which was to be a stepping-stone to fortune. This was all done with now, for even in the event of being successful he could not accept the scholarship.
Mrs. Hartland guessed a part of his thoughts, and, calling him to her side, said,—
"We'll talk about that another time, Jim. There's no need to give up your school at present; I wouldn't like you to do that. I daresay we shall be able to rub along somehow till the next examination."
"But there's no good in trying for the 'Gayton.'"
"Not for yourself, but it would be an honour for your school if you won it. You would leave a good name behind you also."
So, after some further talk, it was decided that Jim should stay on at school; and the next week the family moved to a little house in a much poorer quarter of the town.
Of course Dick went to help, and his bright smile and cheerful humour did much to cheer them.