“So you’ve heard all about it, have you?” said he.
“Oh, Reginald,” said his mother, in deep distress, “how grieved I am for you!”
“You needn’t be, mother,” said Reginald, “for I’ve got another situation far better and worth three times as much.”
And then he told them, as far as he felt justified in doing so, of the advertisement and what it had led to, finishing up with a glowing description of Mr Medlock, whom he only regretted he had not had the courage to ask up to tea that very evening.
But there was a cloud on the bright horizon which his mother and Horace were quicker to observe than he.
“But, Reg,” said the latter, “surely it means you’d have to go to Liverpool?”
“Yes; I’m afraid it does. That’s the one drawback.”
“But surely you won’t accept it, then?” said the younger brother.
Reginald looked up. Horace’s tone, if not imperious, had not been sympathetic, and it jarred on him in the fulness of his projects to encounter an obstacle.
“Why not?” he replied. “It’s all very well for you, in your snug berth, but I must get a living, mustn’t I?”