This sagacious speech was very true. Dick would never have succeeded as a business man; he was too full of crotchets and speculations to be content to run in narrow grooves. The notion of money-making was abhorrent to him; the idea of a city life, with its hard rubs and drudgery, was utterly distasteful to him. "One would have to mix with such a lot of cads," he would say. "English, pure and undefiled, is not always spoken. If I must work, I would rather have a turn at law or divinity; the three old women with the eye between them knows which."
It could not be denied that Dick winced a little at his father's homely speeches; but in his heart he was both proud and fond of him, and was given to assert to a few of his closest friends "that, take it all in all, and looking at other fellows' fathers, he was a rattling good sort, and no mistake."
When Mrs. Challoner had entered her little protest against her daughter's acceptance of the invitation, Mrs. Mayne had risen and kissed her with some effusion as she took her leave.
"It is so nice of you to say this to me; of course I should have been pleased, delighted to have had Nan with us" (oh, Mrs. Mayne, fie for shame! when you want your boy to yourself), "but all the same I think you are so wise."
"Poor child! I am afraid I am refusing her a great treat," returned Mrs. Challoner, in a tone of regret. It was the first time since her husband's death that she had ever decided anything without reference to her daughters; but for once her maternal fears were up in arms, and drove her to sudden resolution.
"Yes, but, as you observed, it would throw them so entirely together; and Dick is so young. Richard was only saying the other night that he hoped the boy would not fancy himself in love for the next two years, as he did not approve of such early engagements."
"Neither do I," returned Mrs. Challoner, quickly. "Nothing would annoy me more than for one of my daughters to entangle herself with so young a man. We know the world too well for that, Mrs. Mayne. Why, Dick may fall in and out of love half a dozen times before he really makes up his mind."
"Ah, that is what Richard says," returned Dick's mother, with a sigh; in her heart she was not quite of her husband's opinion. She remembered how that long waiting wasted her own youth,--waiting for what? For comforts that she would gladly have done without,--for a well-furnished house, when she would have lived happily in the poorest lodging with the Richard Mayne who had won her heart,--for whom she would have toiled and slaved with the self-abnegating devotion of a loving woman; only he feared to have it so.