Mrs. Middleton complied with her husband’s request, but with no great show of willingness.
“As this is your last supper under my roof,” he said to Tom while his wife was gone for the meat, “I wish you to be satisfied.”
“Then I am not to return to Plympton?” said Tom.
“No; it will probably be necessary for you to work for your living at once. You may, perhaps, go into a shoe-shop, or learn the carpenter’s trade.”
“Did Mr. Sharp say that?”
“No; I only suggested it.”
“Thank you. Perhaps you would take me into your office to learn the insurance business.”
“Not with my consent,” said Mrs. Middleton, who reappeared in time to hear Tom’s question.
“I don’t think it would be advisable,” said Nathan.
“Then perhaps I shall have to go into a shoe-shop, as you suggest. If there should be an opening in Plympton, perhaps you would give me your trade for the sake of old times.”