own, as she went gently about household matters, or knitted my father's
stockings, she was a great day-dreamer--one of the most unselfish kind,
however; a builder of air-castles, for those she loved to dwell in;
planned, fitted, and furnished according to the measure of her
affections.

It was perhaps because my father always began by disparaging her
suggestions that (by the balancing action of some instinctive sense of
justice) he almost always ended by adopting them, whether they were wise
or foolish. He came at last to listen very tolerantly when she dilated
on my future greatness.

"And if he isn't quite so good a farmer as Jem, it's not as if he were
the eldest, you know, my dear. I'm sure we've much to be thankful for
that dear Jem takes after you as he does. But if Jack turns out a
genius, which please God we may live to see and be proud of, he'll make
plenty of money, and he must live with Jem when we're gone, and let Jem
manage it for him, for clever people are never any good at taking care
of what they get. And when their families get too big for the old house,
love, Jack must build, as he'll be well able to afford to do, and Jem
must let him have the land. The Ladycroft would be as good as anywhere,
and a pretty name for the house. It would be a good thing to have some
one at that end of the property too, and then the boys would always be
together."

Poor dear mother! The kernel of her speech lay in the end of it--"The
boys would always be together." I am sure in her tender heart she
blessed my bookish genius, which was to make wealth as well as fame, and
so keep me "about the place," and the home birds for ever in the nest.