Arthur did not laugh; and presently his father glanced keenly at him.
“Well, my son, what do you think of that?”
“I think it is an enormous fortune, and that great responsibility attaches to it.”
In fact, his thoughts were so busy that he scarcely knew what to say. It seemed to him that many of his dreams might almost at once become accomplished facts. More than enough money would be his to set in action the beneficent schemes which, night and day, had haunted him during the last two years. And what was there to prevent him from spending his life in his own chosen way? The business indeed? Surely the right thing would be to retire from it altogether. And yet,—would that be right or best? Arthur Knight hungered for people; and here in his father’s employ were several thousands of them. Nay, he would not send all these adrift, since, in a sense, he would inherit them as well as his father’s fortune.
He arose from his seat in excitement, and paced the room, his father, in the meantime, scrutinising him closely.
“Arthur, I wonder if you have much business capacity?” he said, presently. “It is harder than ever now to make money. Competition is so keen and the price of labour is so great that one must be clever to make headway now.”
“But you have made your headway, father.”
“Oh! I have not done nearly all that I want to do. Arthur,” said the old man, suddenly, “if you had your own way, and were perfectly free to choose, what would you like to do?”
“I am going to try to help you.”
“Please to answer my question, sir.”