me, and it is only the belief that my absurd
folly is in human nature that makes me thus ungracious.'

'But,' said Honora, murmuring, as if in shame, 'you know you, and
therefore your child, must be my especial charge, and always stand first
with me.'

'First in your affection, dearest Honey,' he said, fondly; 'I trust I
have been in that place these twenty years; I'll never give that up; but
if I get as well as I hope to do, I mean to be no charge on any one.'

'You cannot return to your profession?'

'My riding and surveying days are over, but there's plenty of work in me
still; and I see my way to a connection that will find me in enough of
writing, calculating, and drawing, to keep myself and Owen, and I expect
to make something of my invention too, when I am settled in London.'

'In London?'

'Yes; the poor old woman in Whittington-street is breaking--pining for
her grandchild, I believe, and losing her lodgers, from not being able to
make them comfortable; and without what she had for the child, she cannot
keep an effective servant. I think of going to help her out.'

'That woman?'

'Well, I do owe her a duty! I robbed her of her own child, and it is
cruel to deprive her of mine when she has had all the trouble of his
babyhood. Money would not do the thing, even if I had it. I have
brought it on myself, and it is the only atonement in my power; so I mean
to occupy two or three of her rooms, work there, and let her have the
satisfaction of "doing for me." When you are in town, I shall hop into
Woolstone-lane. You will give me holidays here, won't you? And whenever
you want me, let me be your son? To that you know I reserve my right,'
and he bent towards her affectionately.

'It is very right--very noble,' she was faltering forth. He turned
quickly, the tears, ready to fall, springing quite forth.

'Honor! you have not been able to say that since I was a child! Do not
spoil it. If this be right, leave it so.'

'Only one thing, Owen, are you sufficiently considering your son's good
in taking him there, out of the way of a good education.'

'A working education is the good one for him,' said Owen, 'not the being
sent at the cost of others--not even covertly at yours, Sweet Honey--to
an expensive school. He is a working man's son, and must so feel
himself. I mean to face my own penalties in him, and if I see him in a
grade inferior to what was mine by birth, I shall know that though I
brough