The voice in which his master spoke was so significant, that William's face flushed to crimson. Mr. Ashley noticed it.
"Did that ambition ever occur to you?"
"No, sir, never. That honour is looked upon as being destined for Cyril Dare."
"Indeed!" calmly repeated Mr. Ashley. "If you could transform your nature into Cyril, I do not say but that it might be so in time."
"He expects it himself, sir."
"Would he be a worthy associate for me, think you?" inquired Mr. Ashley, bending his gaze full on William.
William made no reply. Perhaps none was expected, for his master resumed:
"I do not recommend you to indulge that particular dream of ambition; I cannot see sufficiently into the future. It is my intention to push you somewhat on in the world. I have no son to advance," he added, an expression of sadness crossing his face. "All I can do for my boy is to leave him at ease after me. Therefore I may, if I live, advance you in his stead. Provided, William, you continue to deserve it."
A smile parted William's lips. That, he would ever strive for, heaven helping him.
Mr. Ashley again laid his hand on William, and gazed into his face. "I have had a wonderful account of you from Samuel Lynn. And it is not often the Friend launches into decided praise."