'There is no reason that you should. Why should you give up all your best and highest hopes, because you cannot forgive your brother?' 'Miss May, if I lived with you and the Doctor, I could have such aims. Henry has taken care to make them sacrilege for me. I shall never be fit now, and there's an end of it.' 'You might--' 'No, no, no! A school, indeed! I should be dismissed for licking the boys before a week was out! Besides, I want the readiest way to get on in the world; I must take care of my sisters; I don't trust one moment to Henry's affection for any of them. This is no home for me, and it soon may be no home for them!' and the boy's eyes were full of tears, though his voice struggled for firmness and indifference. 'I am very sorry for you, Leonard,' said Ethel, much more affectionately, as she felt herself nearer her friend of Coombe. 'I am glad you have some better motives, but I do not see how you will be more able to help them in this way.' 'I shall be near them,' said Leonard; 'I can watch over them. And if--if--it is true what they say about Henry and Mrs. Pugh--then they could have a cottage near the mill, and I could live with them. Don't you see, Miss May?' 'Yes; but I question whether, on further acquaintance, you will wish for your sisters to be with their relations there. The other course would put you in the way of a better atmosphere for them.' 'But not for six years,' said Leonard. 'No, Miss May; to show you it is not what you think in me, I will tell you that I had resolved the last thing to ask Henry's pardon for my share in this unhappy half-year; but this is the only resource for me or my sisters, and my mind is made up.' 'O, Leonard, are you not deceiving yourself? Are the grapes ever so sour, or the nightshade below so sweet, as when the fox has leapt too short, and is too proud to climb?' 'Nightshade! Why, pray?' 'My father would tell you; I know he thinks your cousin no safe companion.' 'I know that already, but I can keep out of his way.' 'Then this is the end of it,' said Ethel, feeling only half justified in going so far, 'the end of all we thought and talked of at Coombe!' There was a struggle in the boy's face, and she did not know whether she had touched or angered him. 'I can't help it,' he said, as if he would have recalled his former hardness; but then softening, 'No, Miss May, why should it be? A man can do his duty in any state of life.' 'In any state of life where God has placed him; but how when it is his own self-will?' 'There are times when one must judge for one's self.' 'Very well, then, I have done, Leonard. If you can conscientiously feel that you are acting for the best, and not to gratify your pride, then I can only say I hope you will be helped through the course you have chosen. Good-bye.' 'But--Miss May--though I cannot take your advice--' he hesitated, 'this is not giving me up?' 'Never, while you let me esteem you.'