"What would you do with it?"
"I would help him, somehow."
"My dear, you could not do it; they would not let you; their pride would stand in the way of everything of the kind."
"I don't believe it," said Elizabeth, the fire of her eye shining now through drops that made it brighter; — "I am sure something could be done."
"It's just as well undone," said Mr. Haye calmly.
"Why, sir?" — his daughter asked almost fiercely.
"What put this young fellow's head upon Colleges, and all that?"
"I don't know, sir! — how should I?"
"It won't last — it's just a freak to be a great man and get out of hob-nailed shoes — he'll get over it; and much better he should. It's much better he should stay here and help his father, and that's what he's made for. He'll never be anything else."
Mr. Haye threw down his book and left the room; and his daughter stood at the window with her heart swelling.