smile, no doubt--I have a conviction that Irene Derwent will remain my
ideal as long as I live."

Enough of that. It being quite clear to me that I simply could not go
in for the examination, I hit upon another scheme; one, it seemed to
me, which might not altogether displease you. I went to see Mr.
Tadworth, and told him that I had decided to go back into business;
could he, I asked, think of giving me a place in their office at
Odessa? If necessary, I would work without salary till I had thoroughly
learned Russian, and could substantially serve them. Well, Mr. Tadworth
was very kind, and, after a little questioning, promised to send me out
to Odessa in some capacity or other, still to be determined. I am to go
in about ten days.

"This, father, is my final decision. I shall give myself to the
business, heartily and energetically. I think there is no harm in
telling you that I hope to make money. If I do so, it will be done, I
think, honourably, as the result of hard work. I had better not see
you; I should be ashamed. But I beg you will write to me soon. I hope I
shall not have overtried your patience. Bear with me, if you can, and
give me the encouragement I value."

Jerome pondered long. He looked anything but displeased: there was
tenderness in his smile, and sympathy; something, too, of pride. Very
much against his usual practice, he wrote a reply the same day.

"So be it, my dear lad! I have no fault to find, no criticism to offer.
Your letter is an honest one, and it has much moved me. Let me just say
this: you rightly doubt whether you should call yourself unlucky. If,
as I can imagine, the daughter of Dr. Derwent is a girl worth your
homage, nothing better could have befallen you than this discovery of
your 'ideal.' Whether you will be faithful to be faithful to it, the
gods alone know. If you _can_ be, even for a few years of youth, so
much the happier and nobler your lot!

"Work at money-making, then. And, as I catch a glimmer of your meaning
in this resolve, I will tell you something for your comfort. If you
hold on at commerce, and verily make way, and otherwise approve
yourself what I think you, I promise that you shall not lack
advancement. Plainly, I have a little matter of money put by, for
sundry uses; and, if the day comes when something of capital would
stead you (after due trial, as I premise), it shall be at your disposal.

"Write to me with a free heart. I have lived my life; perchance I c