"Ah! that you did, lad!" nodded John solemnly.
"So now, Barnabas, we'd like the liberty to ax you, John and me, what you meant by it?"
"Ah—that's the question, Barnabas!" said John, fixing his gaze on the bell-mouthed blunderbuss that hung over the mantel, "what might it all mean—that's the question, lad."
"It means, father and Natty Bell, that I have been all the way to London to learn what you, being so much wiser than I, tried to teach me—that a sow's ear is not a silk purse, nor ever can be."
"But," said John, beginning to rasp at his chin again, "there's Adam—what of Adam? You'll remember as you said—and very sensible too. Natty Bell—you'll remember as you said—"
"Never mind what I said then, father, I was very young. To-day, since I never can be a gentleman, I have come home so that you may teach me to be a man. And believe me," he continued more lightly as he glanced from the thoughtful brow of Natty Bell to the gloom on his father's handsome face, "oh, believe me—I have no regrets, none—none at all."
"Natty Bell," said John ponderously, and with his gaze still fixed intently upon the blunderbuss, "what do you say to that?"
"Why I say, John, as I believe as our lad aren't speaking the truth for once."
"Indeed, I shall be very happy," said Barnabas, hastily, "for I've done with dreaming, you see. I mean to be very busy, to—to devote my money to making us all happy. I have several ideas already, my head is full of schemes."
"Man Jack," said Natty Bell, puffing thoughtfully at his pipe, "what do you say to that?"