“Surely, you have not raised the whole of that sum?”
“Yes, every penny has gone; and now, dear Walter, your patrimony in a few weeks will, I fear, become the possession of others.”
“This is sad news, my father,” replied Walter junior. “It is, indeed, a terrible disaster. But don’t grieve. What’s done can’t be undone. I am resolved yet to redeem it, if time be granted me. I am now penniless; but I will make my own fortune. I will yet gain for myself a name and a rank which shall be equal to, if it does not surpass, that of my illustrious ancestors. Now being bereft of all, the poorest of the poor, and dependent upon my own powers and will, I will repair the ruin.”
“By what means will you accomplish this, Walter?” inquired the father.
“Oh, father, by means which are honourable; and by pursuits which lead to fortune. By work, by labour, by industry, by indomitable plodding, and by engaging in the calling of men who have thereby accumulated untold wealth, and are possessed of unbounded riches.”
“I do not, my son, understand you. To what pursuit do you refer?”
“To be plain, then, this is my resolve: to engage at once in commercial undertakings, thus following in the footsteps of my late lamented uncle.”
“But, considering the position we occupy in society as the lords of Dunraven, for you to enter upon such an undertaking would be a degradation.”
“But, father, is it not a greater degradation to be poor—to see our lands in the possession of others, to be provided with bread by the toil and labour of others—in short, to see men work, while we refuse to lift up a hand to help them, when we are dependent upon their industry?”
“It is hard to do this, my noble boy; but to me it is still more painful to part with you.”