Mrs. Wadsworth’s eyes filled with tears as she kissed Hugh. “It will all come right in the end,” she said. “I wish you could go to college, but many a man succeeds without it, and educates himself. It is blessed that we are alive and well, and are able to work. There is as much room in the world for my children as for anybody’s. You have been a noble son, and we all love you. I wanted to buy you something, but the money had to go for rent.” “Oh, never mind, mother! I don’t need anything. I’m going over to Mr. Carter’s to see if they want the snow shovelled from their walks. Tell Willie to come over with his new sled and see me work.” And Hugh’s big blue eyes brightened as he stepped out into the frosty air. Blessed hope of youth, that carries us into the realities of middle life stronger and happier for the burdens that must be borne! The Carter mansion away on the hills belonged to the Hon. William Carter, owner of the woollen mills. A man of kind heart, good to his employees, he had always felt an interest in Hugh because the father had worked in his mills. This Christmas morning the Carters wished several walks cleared. The hired man could have done it, but Mr. Carter preferred that Hugh should have the work. The owner of the woollen mills watched the boy from the window as he shovelled. “A very promising lad,” he said to his wife, a little lady much younger than himself. “I wonder what he intends to do in the world,” and putting his hands in his pockets he walked up and down the floor. “Jerome Wadsworth was a good workman in the mills. I guess the widow has had a hard time of it since he died.” Mr. Carter walked towards the dining-room, where the breakfast dishes were being removed from the table. “Margaret, when the boy has finished clearing the walks, send him to me.” “Yes, sir,” responded the maid. An hour later, his cheeks aglow from labor, Hugh stood in the doorway. “Come in, Hugh, and sit down. What are you going to do?” “I am ready for any honest work, Mr. Carter. I wanted to go to college, but that is out of the question.” “How much would it cost you?” “From five to six hundred dollars a year, I suppose.” “Would your mother like to have you go?” “Very much indeed. She has always wanted it, but I think she really needs my wages now to help her.” “But you can help her better after you have an education. You could earn more, and you would be an honor to her.” “Yes, I know of nothing that would make her so happy.” “Well, my son is young yet, and something may happen which will prevent my sending James to college, so I will send you while I can.” Hugh’s blue eyes grew moist. He was indeed to have a Christmas present: a four years’ course at college. “I will come over and talk with your mother about it,” said Mr. Carter.