liked little
Sylvie. She was taught at home except in music and drawing, and she was
as much interested in grandmother's heroes as the two boys.

On the other hand, the Hopes and the Barrys had always been great
friends; and, from some odd freak of unlikeness, Sylvie and Irene
Lawrence carried on the intimacy.

She stopped now, and talked about the kitten with Jack; and he carried
her milk-pail home to the gate.

It was a long, wearisome vacation to poor Jack. Fishing lost its charm,
even tramps in the woods became monotonous. He spent hours in his
father's shop, inspecting machinery, though he seldom asked a question
or ventured upon a remark. Indeed, some of the hands thought "Darcy's
boy wasn't over-bright." Yet here he laid the foundation of the problem
that was to vex and puzzle his soul in after-years. Here was the great,
whirring machinery, belts, bands, spindles, looms, and oftentimes a
stupid and stolid enough workman at one end, grinding out luxury and
elegance for David Lawrence, Esq.; that his family might tread on Wilton
and Axminster, dine from silver and crystal, dress in silks and velvets,
drive about with high-stepping bays, and scorn all beneath them. Once as
Jack was thinking it over he laughed aloud.

"You must feel very much amused," said a rather sour-looking man
standing near by, with a peculiar touchiness as if he had been laughed
at.

"No, I wasn't amused, I was only thinking"-- But Jack stopped in the
middle of his sentence. Could _this_ man take any such position as that
of Mr. Lawrence?

Then he came across a volume of self-made men, which he eagerly
devoured. Every one seemed to have commenced life without a dollar, and
almost without friends. Were those the important factors in the race, to
be light-weighted? And he had a triple chain.

Fred returned, handsomer than ever, and doubly glad to get back to Jack.
There was just four days grace. They revisited old haunts, talked
endlessly and to little purpose, like so much of the talk of youth, and
now they were parting at the gate for the last time. Unlike girls they
exchanged no vows or kisses. It is not in boy-nature to be effusive.

"To think that I shall not be home until Christmas! If only you _were_
going with me, Jack, what jolly times we would have!"

"I could have gone," answered Jack with some pride, "that is, if I had
been prepared. Father was willing, and grandmother would have been proud
enough;" and just then Jack wond