A pretty thing it would be if any big-wigged Lord
Chancellor could take away the money that a man works hard for!"
"Hasty, as usual, Tom," she said with a smile. "You know--we all
know--that, counting fully upon this money, papa is behindhand in his
payments. They must be paid off now in the best way that may be found:
and it will take so much from his income. It will make no difference to
you, Tom; all you can do, is to try on heartily for the seniorship and
the exhibition."
"Oh, won't it make a difference to me, though!" retorted Tom. "And
suppose I don't gain it, Constance?"
"Then you will have to work all the harder, Tom, in some other walk of
life. Failing the exhibition, of course there will be no chance of your
going up to the university; and you must give up the hope of entering
the Church. The worst off--the one upon whom this disappointment must
fall the hardest--will be Arthur."
Arthur Channing--astride on the arm of the old-fashioned sofa--lifted
his large deep blue eyes to Constance with a flash of intelligence: it
seemed to say, that she only spoke of what he already knew. He had been
silent hitherto; he was of a silent nature: a quiet, loving, tender
nature: while the rest spoke, he was content to think.
"Ay, that it will!" exclaimed Hamish. "What will become of your
articles now, Arthur?"
It should be explained that Arthur had entered the office of Mr.
Galloway, who was a proctor, and also was steward to the Dean and
Chapter.
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