avish
on me. Mother, I have made up my mind to go to America, and to remain
there for some time. I cannot stop here any longer. I am tired--not of
my dear mother," he said, as he stooped over her and kissed her fondly,
"but of the idle life I lead here; and so I mean to go and try and get
work there, perhaps buy land if I can afford it, and see if I can make
anything of my life as a farmer. Nay, mother, do not look so sad," he
pleaded; "you do not know how hard it is for me to come to this
resolution, but I must go. I cannot continue to live on future prospects
of wealth that may--nay, perhaps ought never to be mine, but must act
the man--try and earn my own living."

"Your own living, Reginald!" interposed his mother; "surely you have
enough of your own to live comfortably on even as a married man, and
your prospects of succeeding to Harcourt Manor are, I grieve to say for
one reason, almost certain. O Reginald, don't go and leave me so soon
again!"

But the young man, usually so easily led, fatally so indeed, stood firm
now, and only answered, "Mother, it must be, and if you knew all you
would be the first to advise me to go. Mother, you will soon hear that
Gertie Warden is engaged to be married to a man worthy of her--a noble
Christian doctor of the name of Heinz; but don't think that that
circumstance is the reason of my leaving home. Fool though I have been
and still am, I was never fool enough to think I was worthy of gaining
the love of a high-principled girl like Gertie Warden. But, mother, your
unselfish, God-fearing life, and that of Gertie and Dr. Heinz, have led
me to see my own character as I never saw it before, and to wish to put
right what has been so long wrong, and which it seems to me I can do
best if I were away from home. Ask me no more, mother dear; some day I
will tell you all, but not now. Only, mother, I must tell you that the
words of the Bible which you love so well and have so early taught to me
have not been without their effect, at least in keeping my conscience
awake. And, mother, don't cease to pray for me that I may be helped to
do the right. Oh, do not, do not," he entreated, as his mother began to
urge him to remain, "say that, mother; say rather, 'God bless you,' and
let me go. Believe me, it is best for me to do so."

At these words Mrs. Gower ceased speaking. If, indeed, her loved son was
striving to do the right thing, would she be the one to hold him back?
Ah no! she would surr