itors, and that she does wish her son to
learn his business from the root. This produces a second letter from Mr.
Goren, which imparts to her that at the root of the tree, of tailoring
the novitiate must sit no less than six hours a day with his legs
crossed and doubled under him, cheerfully plying needle and thread;
and that, without this probation, to undergo which the son resolutely
objects, all hope of his climbing to the top of the lofty tree, and
viewing mankind from an eminence, must be surrendered.

'If you do not insist, my dear Mrs. Harrington, I tell you candidly,
your son may have a shop, but he will be no tailor.'

Mrs. Mel understands her son and his state of mind well enough not to
insist, and is resigned to the melancholy consequence.

Then Mr. Goren discovers an extraordinary resemblance between Evan and
his father: remarking merely that the youth is not the gentleman his
father was in a shop, while he admits, that had it been conjoined to
business habits, he should have envied his departed friend.

He has soon something fresh to tell; and it is that young Mr. Harrington
is treating him cavalierly. That he should penetrate the idea or
appreciate the merits of Mr. Goren's Balance was hardly to be expected
at present: the world did not, and Mr. Goren blamed no young man for his
ignorance. Still a proper attendance was requisite. Mr. Goren thought it
very singular that young Mr. Harrington should demand all the hours
of the day for his own purposes, up to half-past four. He found it
difficult to speak to him as a master, and begged that Mrs. Harrington
would, as a mother.

The reply of Mrs. Mel is dashed with a trifle of cajolery. She has heard
from her son, and seeing that her son takes all that time from his right
studies, to earn money wherewith to pay debts of which Mr. Goren is
cognizant, she trusts that their oldest friend will overlook it.

Mr. Goren rejoins that he considers that he need not have been excluded
from young Mr. Harrington's confidence. Moreover, it is a grief to
him that the young gentleman should refrain from accepting any of his
suggestions as to the propriety of requesting some, at least, of his
rich and titled acquaintance to confer on him the favour of their
patronage. 'Which they would not repent,' adds Mr. Goren, 'and might
learn to be very much obliged to him for, in return for kindnesses
extended to him.'

Notwithstanding all my efforts, you see, the poor boy is thrust