"And work on the farm?"
"Are you getting too proud for that,—with your heiress in view?" asked Mr. Royden, with sarcasm.
"It seems as though I might be doing something more profitable, to prepare me for entering life."
"Yes! You might be at another academy, occupying your time in making love to another silly, romantic girl!"
"Nobody will say," rejoined Chester, biting his lips, and speaking with forced calmness,—"my worst enemy cannot say,—that I have not improved my opportunities of study. I hope you will believe me, when I say I have always stood at the head of my classes."
Mr. Royden was considerably softened.
"Well, well!" said he, "I can make some allowance for your young blood. I will see what ought to be done. We will talk the matter over at another time."
"But while you do stay at home," added Mrs. Royden, who had remained silent for a length of time quite unusual with her, "you must take hold and help your father all you can. He has to hire a great deal, and sending you to school makes us feel the expense more than we should. James is not worth much, and Samuel, you know, is worse than nothing."
"Speaking of Sam, I wish he would show his face. It's getting very late," observed Mr. Royden, looking at the clock.
"The old gentleman is always at the door when his name is spoken," said Mrs. Royden. "There he comes."