“And with a good reserve fund besides,” suggested Grant.
On Saturday evening he called on Mr. Clifton, and received the balance of the purchase money. On Monday, with a little list of creditors, and his pocket full of money, he made a round of calls, and paid up everybody, including Mr. Tudor.
“I told you the bill would be paid, Mr. Tudor,” he said, quietly, to the grocer.
“You mustn't feel hard on me on account of my pressing you, Grant,” said the grocer, well pleased, in a conciliatory tone. “You see, I needed money to pay my bills.”
“You seemed to think my father didn't mean to pay you,” said Grant, who could not so easily get over what he had considered unfriendly conduct on the part of Mr. Tudor.
“No, I didn't. Of course I knew he was honest, but all the same I needed the money. I wish all my customers was as honest as your folks.”
With this Grant thought it best to be contented. The time might come again when they would require the forbearance of the grocer; but he did not mean that it should be so if he could help it. For he was more than ever resolved to give up the project of going to college. The one hundred and fifty dollars which remained after paying the debts would tide them over a year, but his college course would occupy four; and then there would be three years more of study to fit him for entering a profession, and so there would be plenty of time for the old difficulties to return. If the parish would increase kis father's salary by even a hundred dollars, they might get along; but there was such a self-complacent feeling in the village that Mr. Thornton was liberally paid, that he well knew there was no chance of that.
Upon this subject he had more than one earnest conversation with his mother.
“I should be sorry to have you leave home,” she said; “but I acknowledge the force of your reasons.”
“I shouldn't be happy at college, mother,” responded Grant, “if I thought you were pinched at home.”