river--Maidenhead. You heard at the breakfast, didn't
you?"
Tom shook his head.
"I didn't hear," he said sadly.
"You never hear anything or see anything. I never met such a dull,
chuckle-headed chap as you are. Why don't you wake up?"
"I don't know; I do try," said Tom sadly.
"You don't know!--you don't know anything. I don't wonder at the
governor grumbling at you. You'll have to pull up your boots if you
expect to be articled here, and so I tell you. There, I'm off. I've
got to meet the mater at Paddington at twelve. I say, got any money?"
"No," said Tom sadly.
"Tchah! you never have. There, pitch into Tidd. You've got your work
cut out, young fellow. No letters for me?"
"No. Yes, there is--one."
"No!--yes! Well, you are a pretty sort of a fellow. Where is it?"
"I laid it in uncle's room."
"What! Didn't I tell you my letters were not to go into his room? Of
all the--"
Tom sighed, though he did not hear the last words, for his cousin
hurried into the room on their right, came back with a letter, hurried
out, and the door swung to again.
"It's all through being such a fool, I suppose," muttered the boy. "Why
am I not as clever and quick as Sam is? He's as sharp as uncle; but
uncle doesn't seem a bit like poor mother was."
Just then Tom Blount made an effort to drive away all thoughts of the
past by planting his elbows on the desk, doubling his fists, and resting
his puckered-up brow upon them, as he plunged once more into the study
of the legal work.
But the thoughts would come flitting by, full of sunshiny memories of
the father who died a hero's death, fighting as a doctor the fell
disease which devastated the country town; and of the mother who soon
after followed her husband, after requesting her brother to do what he
could to help and protect her son.
Then the thought of his mother's last prayer came to him as it often
did--that he should try his best to prove himself worthy of his uncle's
kindness by studying hard.
"And I do--I do--I do," he burst out aloud, passionately, "only it is so
hard; and, as uncle says, I am such a fool."
"You call me, Blount?" said a voice, and a young old-looking man came in
from the next office.
"I!--call? No, Pringle," said Tom, colouring up.
"You said something out loud, sir, and I thought you called."
"I--I--"
"Oh, I see, sir; you was speaking a bit out of your book. Not a bad way
to get it into your head. You
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