had whims and fancies, or
it would have been four thousand. Tom Lorimer could never see which side
of his bread was buttered. He was born a fool, like thee."

Flinging back my head I rose facing him. But he thundered, "Stop! You
ought to know my meaning. He was an open-handed gentleman, and my
well-loved brother. If you take your share of the five hundred, what is
going to educate your brother Reggie and your sister Aline? I presume you
know the fees they charge at both those schools? And did you ever ask
whether I had plans for thee?"

I was silent a moment. For the first time it struck me with sudden shame
that Martin Lorimer had already most generously done his best to start his
brother's orphans well in life. Then I answered slowly:

"I beg your pardon. I recognize your goodness; but I know I should never
be successful in the mill. I'm sorry, but that is only the simple truth.
Let Reggie and Aline keep all, except enough for a third-class passage to
Winnipeg. This is not a rash whim. It has taken me three years to make up
my mind."

"Then there's an end of the matter," said Martin Lorimer. "Stubbornness is
in the family, and you are your father's son. An archangel would hardly
have moved poor Tom! Well, lad, you shall not go penniless, nor
third-class, if it's only for the credit of the name; and you can't go
until spring. I thank thee for telling me; but I'm busy, and we'll talk
again. Hast told thy cousin Alice about it?"

His eyes had lost their angry flash before I went out, and something in
his change of tone revealed the hard bargain-maker's inner self.

Minnie Lee smiled over the typewriter as I passed her room, and I went in
to tell her about it. I felt I must talk to some one; and, if not gifted
with much sense, she was a sympathetic girl. She listened with a pretty
air of dismay, and said petulantly, "So I shall lose my only friend in
this dreary mill! Don't they pay high wages for my work in Montreal and
Winnipeg? Well, if you hear of a situation you can send straight back for
me."

Then a door slammed, and I saw a frown on my uncle's face as, perhaps
attracted by the sound of voices, he glanced into the room on passing.
Still, it was some time afterward before I learned that he had heard the
last words; and, remembering them eventually when recalled by events,
Minnie's careless speech proved an unfortunate one for both of us.

CHAPTER III

"THE LAND OF PROMISE"

It was a dismal aftern