In spite of his declaration of indifference to the feelings of his
guardian, the married boy was rapidly acquiring that capacity for
"worry" which Mr. Houghton desired to develop in him. _What would the
mail bring him from Green Hill?_ It brought nothing for a week--a week
in which he experienced certain bad moments which encouraged "worry" to
a degree that made his face distinctly older than on that morning under
the locust tree, when he had been married for fifty-four minutes. The
first of these educating moments came on Monday, when he went to see his
tutor, to say that he was--well, he was going to stop grinding.

"What?" said Mr. Bradley, puzzled.

"I'm going to chuck college, sir," Maurice said, and smiled broadly,
with the rollicking certainty of sympathy that a puppy shows when
approaching an elderly mastiff.

"Chuck college! What's the matter?" the mastiff said, putting
a protecting hand over his helpless leg, for Maurice's
restlessness--tramping about, his hands in his pockets--was a menace
to the plastered member.

"I'm going into business," the youngster said; "I--Well; I've got
married, and--"

"_What!_"

"--so, of course, I've got to go to work."