He sat down, however, and went over the matter from the beginning. He said something also about his hopes and plans for the future. He by no means meant to give up his work at present. He meant to work in the summer as he had hitherto done, and go on with his reading in the winter. If he and Mr Swinton were to come to an agreement, it would be all the easier for him. He had no fear but that he could get on with both work and reading till he had got through with the college at least.
“But, O John! it will be a lang look to the end! I can hardly hope to see it, though that would matter little if it were the best thing for you. But what is to come after?” asked his mother with a sigh.
John could not tell her that. But there was nothing more certain than that when he should be “thoroughly furnished,” the right work would be found—the very highest work—and a kind of life which would suit him, though he might not grow rich in it.
“John,” said his mother gravely, “I hardly think all that would help you to live a better life than your father lived. It is not the kind of work that matters; it is the way it is done. Your father did his duty in the sight of God and man, and went far beyond what folk whiles call duty, never letting his left hand ken what his right hand was doing. And I have ay hoped that ye might follow in his steps. It is like a slight on your father, John, when ye speak of higher work.”
“Mother! you cannot really think that of me! And, mother, you must mind that my father meant me to do as I wish to do. It is only to begin a little later than he hoped. And there is no fear but I shall see my work when I am ready for it.”
“And yet there is many a man in Scotland with a store o’ book learning who has done little work, or only ill work, for God and man. And even with a good-will the opportunity doesna ay come.”
“Well, never mind, mother. There is no pressing need to decide now, at least till summer is over. We will wait to see what may happen.” He did not speak cheerfully, however.
“John,” said his mother earnestly, “are ye sure that your heart is set on this? What has come to you? Has anything happened to unsettle you, lad? Tell your mother, John.”
John laughed as he rose and then stooped down and kissed her.
“Nothing has happened. It is quite possible that you are right and that I am wrong. We will just wait and see, and decide the matter later. Even if we have to leave Nethermuir, it need not be till summer is over. I am sorry that I have troubled you with this now. You will vex yourself thinking about it all.”