"My son is now a man,--at least in heart, if not in years can man be
shut from danger and trial? They found me in the old parsonage,
brother!" said my father, mildly.

My uncle walked, or rather stumped, three times up and down the room;
and he then stopped short, folded his arms, and came to a decision,--

"If the girl likes you, your duty is doubly clear: you can't take
advantage of it. You have done right to leave the house, for the
temptation might be too strong."

"But what excuse shall I make to Mr. Trevanion?" said I, feebly; "what
story can I invent? So careless as he is while he trusts, so
penetrating if he once suspects, he will see through all my subterfuges,
and--and--"

"It is as plain as a pikestaff," said my uncle, abruptly, "and there
need be no subterfuge in the matter. 'I must leave you,
Mr. Trevanion.' 'Why?' says he. 'Don't ask me.' He insists. 'Well
then, sir, if you must know, I love your daughter. I have nothing, she
is a great heiress. You will not approve of that love, and therefore I
leave you!' That is the course that becomes an English gentleman. Eh,
Austin?"

"You are never wrong when your instincts speak, Roland," said my father.
"Can you say this, Pisistratus, or shall I say it for you?"

"Let him say it himself," said Roland, "and let him judge himself of the
answer. He is young, he is clever, he may make a figure in the world.
Trevanion may answer, 'Win the lady after you have won the laurel, like