"I don't mean that. It isn't getting me ahead. I can't do any more now than I could a year ago. If I learned my uncle's business I might get ahead, as he has." "You may be right, Ben; but how could I spare you? I should feel so lonely." "You have Alice, mother. She is ten years old, and is a good deal of company to you." So the discussion continued. Finally, as might have been expected, Ben obtained from his mother a reluctant consent to his writing to his uncle. He did not have to wait long for the answer; but when it came, it was cold and unsatisfactory. It read thus: "NEPHEW BENJAMIN:--Your letter has come to hand, asking me to give you a place in my store. I think you are much better off in the country. Besides that, I do not think you ought to leave your mother. You say there is no chance for you in Sunderland; but you are mistaken. You can work for some farmer, and gradually acquire a knowledge of the business, and in time I may help you buy a farm, or at any rate hire one, if I am satisfied with your conduct. As to the city, you had better keep away from it. I am sure your mother will agree with me. "Your uncle, "NICHOLAS WALTON." "Your uncle seems to me to write very sensibly," said Mrs. Baker. "The city is full of temptations." "If I go to the city I shall work too hard to be troubled in that way, mother." "Your uncle makes a very kind offer, I think." "It doesn't bind him to much," said Ben. "He says he may help me to buy or hire a farm, if I learn farming." "That would be a gift worth having, Ben," said his mother, who thought chiefly of keeping Ben at home. "I shall never make a farmer, mother; I don't like it well enough. It is a very useful and honorable business, I know, but I have a taste for business; and if Uncle Nicholas won't help me to a start, I must see what I can do for myself after a time." Nicholas Walton congratulated himself when his letter to Ben remained unanswered. "That will settle the matter," he said to himself. "I would rather keep the boy in the country. I couldn't have him in my establishment. I should never see him without thinking of his father's sudden death before my eyes," and the rich merchant shuddered in spite of himself. "Besides," and a shade of apprehension swept over his face, "I am in constant fear lest he should hear of the large sum of money which came into his father's hands just before his death. While he stays in Sunderland, there is little chance of any such knowledge coming to him; if he is in the city, there is a greater chance of it. Who knows; the man who paid Doctor Baker the money may turn up. It was his intention to go to Europe for five years. That period has nearly passed already. If this discovery should ever be made, I am ruined. I might even be accused of murdering him, though, happily, that could not be proved. But there would be a blot on my name, and my reputation would suffer."