of furniture, and elated--as thousands of undergraduates
have been before his day and since--at exchanging school for college
and qualified liberty and the dignity of housekeeping on one's own
account.

"_Est aliquid quocunque loco, quocunque recessu_," he quoted, and
showed John with triumph the window seat which, lifted, disclosed a
cupboard to contain his wine, if ever he should possess any.

"Are you proposing to become a wine-bibber in your enthusiasm?" asked
John.

Charles closed the lid, seated himself upon it, drew up his legs, and
gazed out across the quadrangle. He had made a friend or two already
among the freshmen, and this life seemed to him very good.

"My dear Jack, you would not have me be a saint all at once!"

John frowned. "You do not forget, I hope, in what hope you have been
helped to Christ Church?"

Charles sat nursing his knees. A small frown puckered his forehead,
but scarcely interfered with the good-tempered smile about his mouth.

"Others beside my father have helped or are willing to help.
See that letter?"--he nodded towards one lying open on the table--
"It is from Ireland. It has been lying in the porter's lodge for a
week, and my scout brought it up this morning."

John picked it up, smiling at his boyish air of importance. "Am I to
read it?"

Charles nodded, and while his brother read, gazed out of window.
The smile still played about his mouth, but queerly.

"It is a handsome offer," said John slowly, and laid the letter down.
"Have you taken any decision?"

"Father leaves it to me, as you know," Charles answered and paused,
musing. "I suppose, now, ninety-nine out of a hundred would jump at
it."

"Assuredly."

"Somehow our family seems to be made up of odd hundredths. You, for
example, do not wish me to accept."

"I have said nothing to influence your choice."

"No, my dear Jack, you have not. Yet I know what you think, fast
enough."

John picked up the letter again and folded it carefully.

"An estate in Ireland; a safe seat in the Irish Parliament; and
money. Jack, that money might help to make many happy. Think of our
mother, often without enough to eat; think of father's debts.
He knows I would pay them," said Charles.

"And yet he has not tried to influence your choice."

"He's a Trojan, Jack; an old warhorse. You have cause to love him,
for he loves you so much above all of us--and you know it--that, had
the choice been offered you, he'd have