option may never come again to either!"

And then Roland said to himself, "I have spared and saved for this son:
what care I for aught else than enough to live without debt, creep into
a corner, and await the grave? And the more I can give, why, the better
chance that he will abjure the vile associate and the desperate course."
And so, out of his small income Roland surrendered to the rebel child
more than the half.

Vivian was not aware of his father's fortune,--he did not suppose the
sum of two hundred pounds a year was an allowance so disproportioned to
Roland's means; yet when it was named, even he was struck by the
generosity of one to whom he himself had given the right to say, "I take
thee at thy word: 'Just enough not to starve!'"

But then that hateful cynicism, which, caught from bad men and evil
books, he called "knowledge of the world," made him think, "It is not
for me, it is only for his name;" and he said aloud, "I accept these
terms, sir; here is the address of a solicitor with whom yours can
settle them. Farewell forever."

At those last words Roland started, and stretched out his arms vaguely
like a blind man. But Vivian had already thrown open the window (the
room was on the ground floor) and sprung upon the sill. "Farewell," he
repeated; "tell the world I am dead."

He leaped into the street, and the father drew in the outstretched arms,
smote his heart, and said: "Well, then, my task in the world of man is
over! I will back to the old ruin,--the wreck to the wrecks; and the
sight of tombs I have at least rescued from dishonor shall comfort me