“He can't take your rank from you. We'll have you sir Richard anyhow!--An' I'd let 'em see that a true baronet--” “--is just a true man, uncle.” interposed Richard; “and that you've helped to make me. It's being independent and helping others, not being a baronet, that will make a gentleman of me! That's how it goes in the true world anyhow!” “The _true_ world! Where's that?” rejoined Tuke, with what would have been a sneer had there been ill-nature in it. “And that reminds me of another precious thing you've given me,” Richard went on: “You've taught me to think for myself!” “Think for yourself indeed, and talk of any world but the world we've got!” “If you hadn't taught me,” returned Richard, “to think for myself, I should have thought just as you did. But I've been thinking for myself a great deal, and I say now, that, if there be no more of it after we die, then the whole thing is such a sell as even the dumb, deaf, blind, heartless, headless God you seem to believe in, could not have been guilty of!” “Ho! ho!--that's the good my teaching has done you? Well, we'll have it out by and by! In the meantime, tell us how it all came about--how you came to know, I mean. You're a good sort, whatever you believe or don't believe, and I wish you were ours in reality!” “It's just in reality that I am yours!” protested Richard; but his mother broke in. “Would you dare, John,” she cried, “to wish him ours to his loss?” “No, no, Jane! You know me! It was but a touch of what you call the old Adam--and I the old John! We've got to take care of each other! We're all agreed about that!” “And you do it, father, and that's before any agreeing about it!” “Come and let's have our tea!” said the mother; “and Richard shall tell us how it worked round that the old gentleman knew him. I remember him young enough to be no bad match for your mother, and that's enough to say for any man--as to looks, I mean only. There wasn't a more beautiful woman than my sister Robina in all England--and I'm bold to say it--not that it wants much boldness to say the truth!” “It wants nearly as much at this moment as I have got,” returned Richard; for his narrative required, as an essential part of it, that he should tell what had made him go to his father. He had but begun when a black cloud rose on his mother's face, and she almost started from her seat. “I told you, Richard, you were to have nothing to do with those creatures!” she cried.