"Why, mother, you know I have no profession, and, I suppose I may say, no money. At least, the Squire made no provision for me that I know of, and I'm sure you cannot wish me to live on your 'thirds.'"
"My son, you should have some confidence in my advice, by this time. It doesn't require a great fortune to live comfortably here."
"Yes, but it is deused dull in this old town. No theatre,--no concert,--no music at all, but from organ-grinders,--no parties,--nothing, in fact, but prayer-meetings from one week's end to another. I should die of the blues here."
"Only find something to do, settle yourself into a pleasant home, and you'll forget your uneasiness."
"That's very well to say"----
"And very easy to do. But it isn't the way to begin by flirting with every pretty, foolish girl you see. Oh, Hugh! you are all I have now to love. I shall grow old soon, and I want to lean upon you. Give up the navy; be advised by me."
Hugh whistled softly. He did not suppose that his mother knew of his gallantry. He was amused at her sharp observation.
"So you think I'm a flirt, mother?" said he. "You are out, entirely. I'm a pattern of propriety at home!"
"You need not tell me, Hugh! I know more than you think. But I didn't know that a son of mine could be so simple as I find you are."
"She's after me," thought Hugh. "She saw me, surely."