A salient strength persisted in the Hambletons--a strength which retained
its character in spite of cross-currents. The Hambleton tone and the
Hambleton ideas retained their family color, and became, whether worthily
or not, a part of the Hambleton pride. More than one son had lost his
health or entire fortune, which was apt not to be large, in attempts to
carry on a country place. "A Hambleton trait!" they chuckled, with as
much satisfaction as they considered it good form to exhibit. In Lynn,
where family pride did not bring in large returns, this phrase became
almost synonymous with genteel foolishness.

The Van Camp fortune, which came near but never actually into the family,
was generally understood to have been made in shoes, though in reality it
was drugs.

"People say 'shoes' the minute they hear the word Lynn, and I'm tired of
explaining," Mrs. Van Camp put it. She was third in line from the
successful druggist, and could afford, if anybody could, to be
supercilious toward trade. But she wasn't, even after twenty years of
somewhat restless submission to the Hambleton yoke. And it was she who,
during her last visit to the family stronghold, held up before the young
James the advantages of a commercial career.

"You're a nice boy, Jimsy, and I can't see you turned into a poor lawyer.
You're not hard-headed enough to be a good one. As for being a minister,
well--no. Go into business, dear boy, something substantial, and you'll
live to thank your stars."

Jimsy received this advice at the time with small enthusiasm, and a
reservation of criticism that was a credit to his manners, at least. But