in a pair of ragged breeches that didn't fit me, why, what can my
boy do, as has had a first-class education, and can have money to back
him?"

"My dear James," said Mrs Hexton, "I do wish you would not be so fond
of talking about those--those--"

"Ragged breeches, mother?" said the old fellow, chuckling; "but I will.
That's her pride, Phil, my boy. Now she wears caps made of real lace,
she wants to forget how humble she used to be."

"Nothing of the kind, James," said the pleasant lady tartly; "I'm not
ashamed of our humble beginnings, but I am ashamed to make vulgar
remarks."

"That's a knock-down, Phil, my boy," said Mr Hexton. "There, I won't
mention them again, mother. But come, we are running away from our
subject. I'm heartily glad to see you back, Phil," he cried; and there
was a little moisture gathered in his eyes as he spoke; "and I thank God
to see that you have grown into so fine, healthy, and sturdy a fellow.
God bless you, my boy! God bless you!"

He had left his seat at the foot of the table, and came round to stand
beside his son, patting his shoulder, and then taking and wringing his
hand. He half bent down, too, once, as if to kiss the broad sunburnt
forehead, but altered his mind directly, as he thought it would be weak,
and ended by going and sitting down once more.

"There's plenty of time, of course," he said, "but somehow I shouldn't
dislike to have it settled. Have you ever thought about the matter,
Phil?"

"Yes, father, deeply," said the young man, rising, and then standing
holding his mother's hand. "I like sport, and games, and a bit of
idleness sometimes, especially for a Continental trip."

"Well, if you call that idleness, Phil," said the elder, rubbing his
legs, "give me the hardest day's work in the pit. Remember our climbing
up the Gummy Pass, mother, last year?"

"Oh, don't talk about it, father," said the old lady. "But then we are
not so young as we used to be. Go on, Philip, my dear."

She held on tightly by her son's hand as she spoke, and kept gazing up
at him with a wonderfully proud look.

"Well, father, as I say, I like a bit of change."

"Of course, my lad; all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."

"But I think it is the duty of every young man--boy, if you like,
mother," he said, smiling.

"Young man, Philip," she replied, "for I'm sure you've grown into a very
fine young man."

"Ugly as possible," growled the father, with a twinkle in his e