"Set to work at a new calculation, dear mother, and let him have his own
way."

"But then," said my mother, "your uncle will mope himself to death, and
your father will have no relaxation, while you see that he has lost his
former object in his books. And Blanche--and you too. If we were only
to contribute what dear Roland does, I do not see how, with L260 a year,
we could ever bring our neighbors round us! I wonder what Austin would
say! I have half a mind--No, I'll go and look over the week-books with
Primmins."

My mother went her way sorrowfully, and I was left alone.

Then I looked on the stately old hall, grand in its forlorn decay. And
the dreams I had begun to cherish at my heart swept over me, and hurried
me along, far, far away into the golden land whither Hope beckons youth.
To restore my father's fortunes; re-weave the links of that broken
ambition which had knit his genius with the world; rebuild those fallen
walls; cultivate those barren moors; revive the ancient name; glad the
old soldier's age; and be to both the brothers what Roland had lost,--a
son: these were my dreams; and when I woke from them, to! they had left
behind an intense purpose, a resolute object. Dream, O youth! dream
manfully and nobly, and thy dreams shall be prophets!




CHAPTER VI.