meet his uncle. When the name of her
elder son was again mentioned she withdrew on the pretence of summoning
him, and went up to his room. Godwin had heard the hateful voice, and
was in profound disturbance.

'What does he say, mother?' he inquired anxiously. 'Anything about
Kingsmill?'

'Not yet. Oh, I _do_ so wish we could bring this connection to an end!'

It was the first time Mrs. Peak had uttered her sentiments so
unreservedly.

'Then, shall I see him in private,' said Godwin, 'and simply let him
know the truth?'

'I dread the thought of that, Godwin. He would very likely be coarse
and violent. I must try to show him by my manner. Oliver has gone out,
and when Charlotte comes home I'll tell her to keep out of sight. He
has brought his boy. Suppose you don't come down at all? I might say
you are too busy.'

'No, no; you shan't have to do it all alone. I'll come down with you. I
must hear what he has to say.'

They descended. As soon as his nephew appeared, Andrew sprang up, and
shouted joyfully:

'Well, Godwin, bo-oy! It's all settled! Got the bloomin' shop from next
quarter dye! "Peak's Dinin' and Refreshment Rooms!" Jowey an' me was
over there all yisterday--wasn't us, Jowey? Oh, it's immense!'

Godwin felt the blood buzz in his ears, and a hot choking clutch at his
throat. He took his stand by the mantelpiece, and began to turn a
little glass ornament round and round. Fate had spoken. On the instant,
all his College life was far behind him, all his uneasiness regarding
the next session was dispelled, and he had no more connection with
Kingsmill.

Mrs. Peak had heard from Oliver of her brother-in-law's proposed
undertaking. She had spoken of it with anxiety to Godwin, who merely
shrugged his shoulders and avoided the topic, ashamed to dwell on the
particulars of his shame. In hearing Andrew's announcement she had much
ado to repress tears of vexation; silently she seated herself, and
looked with pained countenance from uncle to nephew.

'Shall you make any changes in the place?' Godwin asked, carelessly.

'Shan't I, jest! It'll take a month to refit them eatin' rooms. I'm
agoin' to do it proper--up to Dick! and I want your 'elp, my bo-oy. You
an' me 'II jest write a bit of a circular--see? to send round to the
big pots of the Collige, an' all the parents of the young fellers as we
can get the addresses of--see?'

Even amid his pangs of mortification Godwin found himself pondering an
intellectua