It was useless. No remonstrances shook the iron resolution of the man
who had hewed his way through the rank and file of political humanity to
his own high place apart from the rest. Helpless, ghastly, snatched out
of the very jaws of death, there he lay, steadily distilling the clear
common-sense which had won him all his worldly rewards into the mind of
his son. Not a hint was missed, not a caution was forgotten, that could
guide Julius safely through the miry political ways which he had trodden
so safely and so dextrously himself. An hour more had passed before the
impenetrable old man closed his weary eyes, and consented to take his
nourishment and compose himself to rest. His last words, rendered barely
articulate by exhaustion, still sang the praises of party manoeuvres
and political strife. "It's a grand career! I miss the House of Commons,
Julius, as I miss nothing else!"

Left free to pursue his own thoughts, and to guide his own movements,
Julius went straight from Lord Holchester's bedside to Lady Holchester's
boudoir.

"Has your father said any thing about Geoffrey?" was his mother's first
question as soon as he entered the room.

"My father gives Geoffrey a last chance, if Geoffrey will only take it."

Lady Holchester's face clouded. "I know," she said, with a look of
disappointment. "His last chance is to read for his degree. Hopeless,
my dear. Quite hopeless! If it had only been something easier than that;
something that rested with me--"

"It does rest with you," interposed Julius. "My dear mother!--can you