"There aint a better business man, I'll engage, than he is, in the whole city of Mannahatta; and that numbers now, -- sixty odd thousand, by the last census. He knows how to take care of himself, as well as any man I ever saw." "Then he bids fair to stand?" "I don't believe anybody bids fairer. He was trying to make a business man of you, wa'n't he, the other day?" "He was saying something about it." "Would you like that?" "Not in the first place, sir." "No. Ah well -- we'll see, -- we'll see," said Mr. Landholm rising up; -- "we'll try and do the best we can." What was that? A question much mooted, by different people and in very different moods; but perhaps most anxiously and carefully by the father and mother. And the end was, that he would borrow money of somebody, -- say of Mr. Haye, -- and they would let both the boys go that fall to College. If this were not the best, it was the _only_ thing they could do; so it seemed to them, and so they spoke of it. How the young men were to be _kept_ at College, no mortal knew; the father and mother did not; but the pressure of necessity and the strength of will took and carried the whole burden. The boys must go; they should go; and go they did. In a strong yearning that the minds of their children should not lack bread, in the self-denying love that would risk any hardship to give it them, -- the father and mother found their way plain if not easy before them. If his sons were to mount to a higher scale of existence and fit themselves for nobler work in life than he had done, his shoulders must thenceforth bear a double burden; but they were willing to bear it. She must lose, not only, the nurtured joys of her hearthstone, but strain every long-strained nerve afresh to keep them where she could not see and could but dimly enjoy them; but she was willing. There were no words of regret; and thoughts of sorrow lay with thoughts of love at the bottom of their hearts, too fast-bound together and too mighty to shew themselves except in action.