and
lighted his cigar.

"That beast of a boy," said he, soliloquizing, "either means this as an
affront, or an overture: if an affront, he is, indeed, well got rid
of; if an overture, he will soon make a more respectful and proper
one. After all, I can't have too little of relations till I have fairly
secured Mrs. M'Catchley. An Honourable! I wonder if that makes me an
Honourable too? This cursed Debrett contains no practical information on
those points."

The next morning the clothes and the watch with which Mr. Avenel
presented Leonard were returned, with a note meant to express gratitude,
but certainly written with very little knowledge of the world; and so
full of that somewhat over-resentful pride which had in earlier life
made Leonard fly from Hazeldean, and refuse all apology to Randal, that
it is not to be wondered at that Mr. Avenel's last remorseful
feelings evaporated in ire. "I hope he will starve!" said the uncle,
vindictively.

CHAPTER III.

"Listen to me, my dear mother," said Leonard the next morning, as, with
knapsack on his shoulder and Mrs. Fairfield on his arm, he walked along
the high road; "I do assure you from my heart that I do not regret the
loss of favours which I see plainly would have crushed out of me the
very sense of independence. But do not fear for me; I have education
and energy,--I shall do well for myself, trust me.--No, I cannot, it is
true, go back to our cottage; I cannot be a gardener again. Don't ask
me,--I should be discontented, miserable. But I will go up to London!
That's the place to make a fortune and a name: I will make both. Oh,
yes, trust me, I will. You shall soon be proud of your Leonard; and then
we will always live together,--always! Don't cry."

"But what can you do in Lunnon,--such a big place, Lenny?"

"What! Every year does not some lad leave our village, and go and seek
his fortune, taking with him but health and strong hands? I have these,
and I have more: I have brains and thoughts and hopes, that--again I
say, No, no; never fear for me!"

The boy threw back his head proudly; there was something sublime in his
young trust in the future.

"Well. But you will write to Mr. Dale or to me? I will get Mr. Dale
or the good mounseer (now I know they were not agin me) to read your
letters."

"I will, indeed!"

"And, boy, you have nothing in your pockets. We have paid Dick; these,
at least, are my own, after paying the coach fare." And she would thr