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e together. Walked? They were so happy they hardly knew whether their feet touched earth or not. They had a constant inclination to clasp hands, to run as little children run; They wished to smile at everyone, to bid all the world good morning. Madam had resolved to be cool and careful in her advances, but she quickly found herself unable to resist the sight of so much love and hope and happiness. The young people together took her heart by storm, and she felt herself compelled to express an interest in their future, and to question Tyrrel about it. "What are you going to do with yourself or make of yourself?" she asked Tyrrel one evening when they were sitting together. "I do hope you'll find some kind of work. Anything is better than loafing about clubs and such like places." "I am going to study law with Judge Rawdon. My late experience has taught me its value. I do not think I shall loaf in his office." "Not if he is anywhere around. He works and makes others work. Lawyering is a queer business, but men can be honest in it if they want to." "And, grandmother," said Ethel, "my father says Tyrrel has a wonderful gift for public speaking. He made a fine speech at father's club last night. Tyrrel will go into politics." "Will he, indeed? Tyrrel is a wonder. If he manages to walk his shoes straight in the zigzaggery ways of the law, he will be one of that grand breed called 'exceptions.' As for politics, I don't like them, far from it. Your grandfather used to say they either found a man a rascal or made him one. However, I'm ready to compromise on law and politics. I was afraid with his grand voice he would set up for a tenor." Tyrrel laughed. "I did once think of that role," he said. "I fancied that. Whoever taught you to use your voice knew a thing or two about singing. I'll say that much." "My mother taught me." "Never! I wonder now!" "She was a famous singer. She was a great and a good woman. I owe her for every excellent quality there is in me." "No, you don't. You have got your black eyes and hair her way, I'll warrant that, but your solid make-up, your pluck and grit and perseverance is the Rawdon in you. Without Rawdon you would very likely now be strutting about some opera stage, playing at kings and lovemaking." "As it is----" "As it is, you will be lord consort of Rawdon Manor, with a silver mine to back you." "I am sorry about the Manor," said Tyrrel. "I wish the dear old Squi
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