d Philip Hexton; and leaving his
chair at the breakfast table he went round to his mother's side, sank
down on one knee, passed his arm around her, and drew her to his broad
breast.

It was a pleasant sight to see the look of pride come into the mother's
face, as she laid one hand upon her son's shoulder, and pressed a few
loose strands of hair away from his thoughtful forehead, which wrinkled
slightly, and there was a look of anxiety in his face as he looked
tenderly at the loving woman.

"That's right, Phil dear," she said; "don't choose any life that is full
of risks."

"Don't try to make a milksop of him, mother," said Mr Hexton, laughing.
"Why, one would think Phil was ten years old, instead of twenty. I
say, my boy, had she aired your night-cap for you last night, and warmed
the bed?"

"Well, I must confess to the warm bed, father," said the young man. "A
night-cap I never wear."

"I thought so," said Mr Hexton, chuckling. "You must not stop at home,
Phil. She'll want you to have camomile tea three times a week."

"You may joke as much as you like, Hexton," said his wife, bridling,
"but no one shall ever say that I put anybody into a damp bed; and as
for the camomile tea, many a time has it given you health when you have
been ailing."

"Why, you don't think I ever took any of the stuff you left out for me,
do you?"

"Of course, dear."

"Never took a glass of it," said Old Hexton, chuckling. "Threw it all
out of the window."

"Then it was a great shame," said Mrs Hexton angrily, "and a very bad
example to set to your son."

"Never mind, Phil; don't you take it," chuckled Mr Hexton. Then
becoming serious he went on: "Well, there's no hurry, my boy; only now
that you are back from Germany, and can talk High Dutch and Low Dutch,
and French, and all the rest of it, why it is getting time to settle
what you are to do. I could allow you so much a year, and let you be a
gentleman, with nothing to do, if I liked; but I don't hold with a young
fellow going through life and being of no use--only a tailor's dummy to
wear fine clothes."

"Oh no, father; I mean to take to a business life," said Philip Hexton
quickly.

"Of course, my lad; and you'll do well in it. I began life in a pair of
ragged breeches that didn't fit me, shoving the corves of coal in a
mine; and now," he exclaimed proudly, "I'm partner as well as manager in
our pit. So what I say is, if I could do what I have done, beginning
life