"Nonsense; they are mostly old things. I cannot have my house filled with lumber. Your clothes and a few books are all that I can allow you to take; the remainder must be sold. The money will be useful to you, till you are able to earn something. I began life with half-a-crown, and by laying it out judiciously, have obtained a tolerable income for myself. You will have more than I had, and ought to do better."
Owen did not say more then, but when he went up to the vicarage to bid good-bye to Mr. Sturt, he told him of his trouble. The vicar listened sympathisingly; he knew well that such treasures are not to be valued with money, and he felt, too, that such home-valuables might be helps to the boy amid the temptations of a town life. This little glimpse of Mr. James Hadleigh's character, too, made him fear that the boy would have very different surroundings to what he had been accustomed; but he determined not to discourage him, so he only said, kindly—
"I am sorry your uncle has not more room for your belongings; but I think I can help you. I will buy those things you value most, and when you have a room where you can put them, you shall have them again."
"Thank you, sir," said Owen, gratefully. "I will pay you back all you give for them, sir. I am going to make my fortune, and do the best I can."
"I hope indeed you will do the best you can whatever your hands find to do. But as to making your fortune, that is another matter, and I don't know that I can wish you success in that. Seek the heavenly riches, my boy, and amid all the lower aims of earth, keep your heart fresh and pure by yielding yourself to the Saviour, and asking His grace to live only for Him."
The next day Owen and his uncle started on their journey; they had a long way to go, and it was quite a novelty to Owen to go any distance in a train. At first he was very sorrowful; the little village had been his home all his life, and he felt that no other place could ever be the same to him. His eyes filled as he thought of his dear father, but he was glad to know that he was doing just what his father wished in going with his uncle. By-and-by the train stopped at a station, and when they went on again, Owen found that he and his uncle were alone in the carriage. He wished he would talk to him; his father would have pointed out places of interest, and been so companionable, but his uncle seemed wrapped up in his own thoughts.
"Have we much farther to go, please?" ventured Owen at last.
"About an hour more," said his uncle, turning round, as if suddenly aware of his presence. "What can you do?" he asked, after a pause; "have you been accustomed to work at all?"
"I did odd jobs about the house, sir, but I never went out to work; father wanted me to learn all I could."
"Wanted to make a scholar of you, did he?"