"Professor, I really do admire the justice and forbearance of your nature."

"Well, young Ishmael, there was another thing. I was getting too old to tramp miles and miles through the country with a heavy pack on my back, as I used to do."

"Well, then, I hope you have saved a little money, at least, old friend, to make you comfortable in your old age," said Ishmael feelingly.

The poor, old odd-job man looked up with a humorous twinkle in his eye, as he replied:

"Why, law, young Ishmael, the idea of my saving money! When had I ever a chance to do it in the best o' days? Why, Ishmael, they say how ministers of the gospel and teachers of youth are the worst paid men in the community; but I think, judging by my own case, that professors are quite as poorly remunerated. It used to take everything I could rake and scrape to keep my family together; and so, young Ishmael, I haven't saved a dollar."

"Is that so?" asked Ishmael, in a voice of pain.

"True as gospel, young Ishmael--Mr. Worth."

"How then do you manage to live, Morris? I ask this from the kindest of feelings."

"Don't I know it, young--Mr. Worth. Well, sir, I do an odd job once in a while yet, for the colored people, and that keeps me from starving," said the professor, with a smile.

Ishmael fell into a deep thought for a while, and then lifting his head, said:

"Well, professor, you have been in your day and generation as useful a man to your fellow-creatures as any other in this world. You have contributed as much to the comfort and well-being of the community in which you live as any other member of it! And you should not and you shall not be left in your old age, either to suffer from want or to live on charity--"

"I may suffer for want, Mr. Worth, but I never will consent to live on charity!" said the odd-job man with dignity.

"That I am sure you never will, professor; though mind! I do not believe it to be any degradation to live by charity when one cannot live in any other way. For if all men are brethren should not the able brother help the disabled brother, and that without humbling him?"

"Yes; but I am not disabled, young--Mr. Worth. I am only disused."

"That is very true. And therefore I spoke as I did when I said just now that you should not suffer from want nor live by charity. Listen to me, professor. I have a proposition to make to you. Your daughters are all married and your work is done; you are alone and idle here. But you are not a mere animal to be tied down to one spot of earth by local attachment. You are a very intelligent man with a progressive mind. You will never stop improving, professor. You have improved very much in the last few years. I notice it in your conversation--"

"I am glad you think so, young--Mr. Worth! but I'm getting aged."

"What of that? You are 'traveling towards the light,' and after improving all your life here you will go on progressing through all eternity."

"Well, sir, that thought ought to be a great comfort to an old man."

"Yes. Now what I want to propose to you is this--I think you love me, professor?"

"Love you, young--Mr. Worth! Why the Lord in heaven bless your dear heart, I love you better than I do anything on the face of the earth, and that's a fact," said the professor, with his face all in a glow of feeling.

And all who knew him might have known that he spoke truth; for though he was not in the least degree deficient in affection for his daughters, yet his love of Ishmael amounted almost to idolatry.

"Dear old friend, I will prove to you some day how high a value I set upon your love. I think, professor, that loving me, as you do, you could live happily with me?"

"What did you say, young--Mr. Worth? I did not quite understand."

"I will be plain, professor. You have lived out your present life here; it is gone. Now, instead of vegetating on here any longer, come into another sphere, a more enlarged and active sphere, where your thoughts as well as your hands will find employment and your mind as well as your body have food."

"How is that to be done, young--Mr. Worth?"

"Come with me to Washington. I have a suite of three very pleasant rooms in the house where I board. Now suppose you come and live with me and take care of my rooms? Your services would be worth a good, liberal salary, from which you would be enabled to live very comfortably and save money."

"What, young Ishmael! Me! I go to Washington and live with you all the time, day and night, under one roof! and live where I can get books and newspapers and hear lectures and debates and see pictures and models, and, in short, come at everything I have been longing to reach all my life?"

"Yes, professor, that is what I propose to you."

"There! I used to say that you'd live to be a blessing to my declining years, young--Mr. Worth (I declare I'll not forget myself again), Mr. Worth! there! Do you really mean it, sir?"

"Really and truly."

"There, then, I am not going to be a hypocrite and pretend to higgle-haggle about it. I'll go, sir; and be proud to do it; it will be taking a new lease of life for me to go. Do you know, I never was in a large city in all my life, though I have always longed to go?

Well, sir, I'll go with you. And I will serve you faithfully, sir; for mine will be a service for love more than for money. And I will never forget the proprieties so far as to call you anything else but 'Mr. Worth,' or 'sir,' in the presence of others, sir, though my heart does betray me into calling you young Ishmael sometimes here."

"I shall leave here on Saturday morning. Can you be ready to go with me as soon as that?"

"Of course I can, Mr. Worth. There's nothing for me to do in the way of preparation but to pack my knapsack and lock my door," answered this "Rough and Ready."

"Very well, then, professor, I like your promptitude. Meet me at Brudenell Hall on Saturday morning at seven o'clock, and in the meantime I will find a conveyance for you."

"All right; thank you, sir; I will be ready."

And Ishmael shook hands with the professor and departed, leaving him hopeful and happy.

At the dinner-table that day, being questioned by his father, Ishmael told him of the retainer he had engaged.

"Ah, my dear boy, it is just like you to burden yourself with the presence and support of that poor old man, and persuade him--and yourself, too, perhaps--that you are securing the services of an invaluable assistant. And all with no other motive than his welfare," said Mr. Brudenell.

"Indeed, sir, I think it will add to my happiness to have Morris with me. I like and esteem the old man, and I believe that he really will be of much use to me," replied the son.

"Well, I hope so, Ishmael; I hope so."

There was through all his talk a preoccupied air about Mr. Brudenell that troubled his son, who at last said:

"I hope, sir, that you have received no unpleasant news by this mail?"

"Oh, no; no, Ishmael! but I have had on my mind for several days something of which I wish to speak to you--"

"Yes, sir?"

"Ishmael, since I have been down here I have followed your counsel.

I have gone about among my tenants and dependents, and--without making inquiries--I have led them to speak of the long period of my absence from my little kingdom, and of the manner in which Lady Hurstmonceux administered its affairs. And, Ishmael, I have heard but one account of her. With one voice the community here accord her the highest praise."

"I told you so, sir."

"As a wife, though an abandoned one, as mistress of the house, and as lady of the manor, she seems to have performed all her duties in the most unexceptionable manner."

"Everyone knows that, sir."

"But still remains the charge not yet refuted."