y a religious thing, do you? Why, mother, I
thought you had more respect for him than that comes to; you ought at
least to consider his years!"

"Come, Shank," returned Mrs Leather, with a deprecating smile, "be a
good boy and tell me what you mean--and about this new situation."

"I just mean that my friend and chum and old schoolfellow Ralph Ritson--
jovial, dashing, musical, handsome Ralph--you remember him--has got me a
situation in California."

"Ralph Ritson?" repeated Mrs Leather, with a little sigh and an uneasy
glance at her daughter, whose face had flushed at the mention of the
youth's name.

"Yes," continued Shank, in a graver tone, for he had observed the flush
on May's face. "Ralph's father, who is manager of a gold mine in
California, has asked his son to go out and assist him at a good salary,
and to take a clerk out with him--a stout vigorous fellow, well up in
figures, book-keeping, carpenting, etcetera, and ready to turn his hand
to anything, and Ralph has chosen me! What d'ee think o' that?"

From her silence and expression it was evident that the poor lady's
thoughts were not quite what her son had hoped.

"Why don't you congratulate me, mother?" he asked, somewhat petulantly.

"Would it not be almost premature," she replied, with a forced smile,
"to congratulate you before I know anything about the salary or the
prospects held out to you? Besides, I cannot feel as enthusiastic about
your friend Ralph as you do. I don't doubt that he is a well-meaning
youth, but he is reckless. If he had only been a man like your former
friend, poor Charlie Brooke, it would have been different, but--"

"Well, mother, it's of no use wishing somebody to be like somebody else.
We must just take folk as we find them, and I find Ralph Ritson a
remarkably fine, sensible fellow, who has a proper appreciation of his
friends. And he's not a bad fellow. He and Charlie Brooke were fond of
each other when we were all schoolboys together--at least he was fond of
Charlie, like everybody else. But whether we like him or not does not
matter now, for the thing is fixed. I have accepted his offer, and
thrown old Jacob overboard."

"Dear Shank, don't be angry if I am slow to appreciate this offer," said
the poor lady, laying aside her knitting and clasping her hands before
her on the table, as she looked earnestly into her son's face, "but you
must see that it has come on me very suddenly, and I'm so sorry to hear
t