"I can't;" he said doggedly; "I can't talk business without a business basis, and this here,"--he shook the letter much as Rag shook a slipper,--"it's just slop! What am I going to do over there, I'd like to know?" he demanded fiercely; whereupon his mother took the letter from his hand and, without heeding his grumbling, read it carefully twice. "Now, look here, Champney," she said firmly; "you must use some reason. I admit this isn't what you wanted or I expected, but it's something; many would think it everything. Didn't you tell me only yesterday that in these times a man is fortunate to get his foot on any round of the ladder--" "Well, if I did, I didn't mean the rung of a banking house fire-escape over in Europe." He interrupted her, speaking sulkily. Then of a sudden he laughed out. "Go on, mother, I'm a chump." His mother smiled and continued the broken sentence: "--And that ten thousand fail where one succeeds in getting even a foothold--to climb, as you want to?" "But how can I climb? That's the point. Why, I shall be twenty-six in five years--if I live," he added lugubriously. His mother laughed outright. The splendid specimen of health, vitality, and strength before her was in too marked contrast to his words. "Well, I don't care," he muttered, but joining heartily in her laugh; "I've heard of fellows like me going into a decline just out of pure homesickness over there." "I don't think you will be homesick for Flamsted; I saw no traces of that malady while you were in New York. On the contrary, I thought you accepted every opportunity to stay away." "New York is different," he replied, a little shamefaced in the presence of the truth he had just heard. "But, mother, you would be alone here." "I'm used to it, Champney;" she spoke as it were perfunctorily; "and I am ambitious to see you succeed as you wish to. I want to see you in a position which will fulfil both your hopes and mine; but neither you nor I can choose the means, not yet; we haven't the money. For my part, I think you should accept this offer; it's one in ten thousand. Work your way up during these five years into Mr. Van Ostend's confidence, and I am sure, _sure_, that by that time he will have something for you that will satisfy even your young ambition. I think, moreover, it is a necessity for you to accept this, Champney." "You do; why?"