my dinner.

Crayshaw was very zealous in the discharge of his promise; the ponies
took a great deal of exercise; and old Grand, before the boys were
dismissed to school, saw very decided and satisfactory progress on the
part of his grandson, while the ponies were committed to his charge with
a fervour that was almost pathetic. It was hard to part from them; but
men are tyrannical; they will not permit boys to have horses at a public
school; the boys therefore returned to their work, and the ponies were
relieved from theirs, and entered on a course of life which is commonly
called eating their heads off.

John in the meanwhile tried in vain to supply the loss of the stately
and erudite Miss Crampton. He wanted two ladies, and wished that neither
should be young. One must be able to teach his children and keep them in
order; the other must superintend the expenditure and see to the
comforts of his whole household, order his children's dress, and look
after their health.

Either he was not fortunate in his applicants, or he was difficult to
please, for he had not suited himself with either lady when a new source
of occupation and anxiety sprung up, and everything else was set aside
on account of it; for all on a sudden it was perceived one afternoon
that Mr. Augustus Mortimer was not at all well.

It was after bank hours, but he was dozing in his private sitting-room
at the bank, and his young nephew, Mr. Mortimer, was watching him.

Valentine had caused his card to be printed "Mr. Mortimer:" he did not
intend because he was landless, and but for his uncle's bounty almost
penniless, to forego the little portion of dignity which belonged to
him.

The carriage stood at the door, and the horses now and then stamped in
the lightly-falling snow, and were sometimes driven a little way down
the street and back again to warm them.

At his usual time John had gone home, and then his father, while waiting
for the carriage, had dropped asleep.

Though Valentine had wakened him more than once, and told him the men
and horses were waiting, he had not shown any willingness to move.

"There's plenty of time; I must have this sleep out first," he said.

Then, when for the third time Valentine woke him, he roused himself. "I
think I can say it now," he observed. "I could not go home, you know,
Val, till it was said."

"Till what was said, uncle?"

"I forget," was the answer. "You must help me."

Valentine suggested various