liard Hartley. He had always
intended, when he had made a position for himself, to recur to it; and,
of course, it will be open to you to do so, also. But I know that it
would have been his wish that you, like him, should not do so, unless
you had made such a position for yourself that you would be a credit to
it.

"On starting, your father left me to decide whether I should go home. I
imagine that the packet merely contains his views on that subject. He
knew what mine were. I would rather have begged my bread, than have
gone back to ask for alms of the man who treated his son so cruelly. It
is probable that, by this time, the old man is dead; but I should
object as much to have to appeal to my husband's brother, a character I
disliked. Although he knew that his father's means were small, he was
extravagant to the last degree, and the old man was weak enough to keep
himself in perpetual difficulties, to satisfy his son. Your father
looked for no pecuniary assistance from his brother; but the latter
might, at least, have come to see him; or written kindly to him, when
he was in London. As your father was writing in his own name for
magazines, his address could be easily found out, by anyone who wanted
to know it. He never sent one single word to him, and I should object
quite as much to appeal to him, as to the old man.

"As to the sisters, who were younger than my husband, they were nice
girls; but even if your grandfather is dead, and has, as no doubt would
be the case, left what he had between them, it certainly would not
amount to much. Your father has told me that the old man had mortgaged
the estate, up to the hilt, to pay his brother's debts; and that when
it came to be sold, as it probably would be at his death, there would
be very little left for the girls. Therefore, certainly I could not go
and ask them to support us.

"My hope is, my dear boy, that you may be able to make your way, here,
in the same manner as your father was doing, when he fell; and that,
someday, you may attain to an honourable position, in which you will be
able, if you visit England, to call upon your aunts, not as one who has
anything to ask of them, but as a relative of whom they need not feel
in any way ashamed.

"I feel that my end is very near, Gregory. I hope to say all that I
have to say to you, before it comes, but I may not have an opportunity;
and in that case, some time may elapse before you read this, and it
will come to y