CHAPTER III.

THE INTERVIEW-MOTHER AND SON-FUTURE PROSPECTS

-THE LETTER.

UY thought he had exhausted all his tears, but when he gazed into his mother's face,

as she put down the tray, and observed the look of grief and compassion which it wore, his eyes again became obscured while his tongue refused to speak.

But his action was more eloquent than words, and served to show the natural tenderness of his nature, and the love he bore his mother; for he threw his arms round her with convulsive eagerness, and buried his face in her bosom.

For a few minutes neither spoke. At length she kissed his broad, white forehead repeatedly, and said: "Come, come, Guy, my dear boy, do not take on so. It will make you ill, and that will not mend matters. You have had no tea. I have brought you some. Your father is in bed and asleep. So are the girls; and I can stay with you till you have done."

"Thank you, thank you, dear mother," answered Guy. "It is just like you to be so thoughtful. I am so glad, too, you have come, for I wanted to see

you very, very much, and couldn't bear the thought of

He was on the point of saying-" leaving home without bidding you good-bye;" but he stopped short, for he had not yet reflected how his mother would accept such a notion.

But his mother's anxiety and clear perception finished the phrase without his uttering it, and if he had even said the words, they could not have been more intelligible to her.

She held him from her and looked into his face. He at first avoided her searching gaze; but at length he raised his eyes to hers, while she peered into them as if they had been a volume of intense interest. And so they were to her.

She heaved a deep sigh, and then said in a faltering voice—

"You mean to leave us, Guy?"

He saw that further concealment of his purpose was useless, so he avowed his object at once.

"Yes, mother, I must go. I can bear this treatment no longer. Perhaps you will be happier when I am gone."

"I happier, Guy?"

"Yes, mother, happier. My father will, perhaps, not be so-irritable-when I am away. He will have one less to provide for. The sight of me, too, seems to make him worse. He may be gentler when I am gone."

"But, my poor boy, you talk of going-of leaving

home-where will you go? Has any one promised you work?. -a situation?"

Guy shook his head; but the tone in which he made his answer was not despondent

"No, mother; no one. I have thought of this scores and scores of times, but I have not spoken about it to a soul. But I am now resolved. I am strong, and willing to work. I do not know much it's true; but I'm not a fool, and I can learn. And I have made up my mind that, with daylight to-morrow, I will set out for London, where I have heard that all who are willing can find something to do.”

"But, dear Guy," argued the mother, "it would be madness to set out on such an errand-without means, without friends, without introductions. How could you even get there? And when there, how could you live until you obtained work which would provide you food and shelter?”

“I have thought of it all, dear mother," answered Guy, in a tone which at once persuaded and gratified his hearer-" I have prayed for strength and direction, and I think my prayer has been heard, for my resolution to set out and seek my fortune is stronger than before. Of one thing you may be certain, that here I cannot, and will not, remain a day longer. Do not then, dear, dear mother, think to oppose my going. We shall only be the more unhappy-both of us if you do so; for I must refuse to obey you in this; and I shall be miserable because I refuse to do what you ask me; and you will be unhappy

because of my disobedience.

No, dear mother.

Strengthen me in my resolutions-make my courage greater than it is—and I will do my best to make you yet proud and happy in your son."

The mother gazed upon her boy with pride, already flashing through her tears.

Never before had she beheld him thus: never till this night had she heard words flow so freely and persuasively from his lips; for Guy was naturally a reserved boy, and of late he had been more than usually silent.

She folded him in her arms again and again; and at length looking into his eyes with an expression of solemnity, she whispered

"Let us pray, Guy."

They knelt down side by side at the foot of the bed, when the mother, drooping her forehead upon her clasped hands, poured out her feelings to One who could best understand their intensity, and whose Holy Spirit could alone breathe consolation to her afflicted heart.

And that consolation was vouchsafed; for, as she rose from her position of humility, an expression of calmness and resignation was upon her features, such as Guy had rarely beheld them exhibit.

She then removed the little mirror from the tiny dressing-table placed before the window, put the tea-tray upon it, and as she snuffed the candle, which had been growing quite a cauliflower wick in the interim, exclaimed, almost cheerfully

"Come, Guy, dear, have your tea,—I am afraid it will be quite cold,—and let us talk this matter over."

Guy did not wait for further pressing. He was indeed terribly hungry, and could have eaten double the amount of bread and butter his mother had brought him up, although it was not a very small allowance either.

While the meal was being despatched, Mrs Rivers drew from her son the project he had formed for his future proceedings.

It may be conjectured she was not long in doing that, for Guy's project was limited to quitting home and getting to London; but he could not, of course, in his ignorance form a plan of anything he should do when he arrived there. He trusted to Providence to aid him in his search for work; and as there seemed nothing else to be done, and Mrs Rivers' experience was not much greater than her boy's, there was no help for it, and they left it so. Happily, they had both a simple faith in the Divine goodness, which relieved them of much anxiety they would otherwise have felt upon this head.

On the score of wardrobe, she selected him the things which she considered best adapted for the journey he was about to undertake, and enjoined him, directly he was any way settled, to let her know by letter where his box, with the remainder of his clothes, could be sent; and she promised to begin the very next day packing and arranging it.

Lastly came the question of money. Small as his