Part 37 (1/2)

”And, now, when he and Davie are such friends,” went on Jem, who did not know when he had said enough. ”I think if Davie approves of him, that ought to be enough for Violet.”

”Quite enough, I acknowledge, Jem,” said Violet. ”I wonder where Davie has gone;” and she rose and went to the door as if to see.

She did not find him, if she looked for him, for David and Philip, after walking up and down the railway track for some time, went down to David's favourite seat on the stones of the abutment of the bridge close by the water. They were silent for some time after they went there.

David sat gazing at the bright clouds that lingered after the sunset, while his friend moved up and down and flung stones into the water. By and by he sat down by David's side, saying--

”And so I am all at sea again.”

”I don't see why you should be 'at sea again,' as you call it,” said David. ”Mr Caldwell's offer was made without any reference to me, and my refusal can make no real difference.”

”It will make all the difference in the world to me.”

”Philip, promise me one thing. Don't decide till your father comes and Frank. I don't know when I was so glad. See how pleased your father will be.”

”Nonsense, Davie! It is no such great thing as all that--a partners.h.i.+p with old Caldwell.”

”Hear what your father will say. I can't say how fine a thing it will be to be his partner, but your father will think it a high compliment that he should have wished it. It will be good for you--and for him too. I don't know which I congratulate most.”

David was growing enthusiastic.

”It would do, I think, if you were coming with us. A clerks.h.i.+p now, and a partners.h.i.+p afterwards. There is no hope of making you change your mind, Davie?”

”Would you wish me to change my mind, Philip?” said David laying his arm over his friend's shoulder, in a way that would have satisfied Violet of his interest and affection.

”I don't know. I am not sure. I don't understand it.”

”Yes, you do, Philip--or you will sometime. I mean, you will understand why this should be the best thing for me to do. You cannot quite understand all I feel about it, because you never knew my father.”

”Tell me about him,” said Philip.

”It is not what I could tell you that would make you understand. But-- we speak about aspirations and ambitions, Philip; but if I had my choice what I should do, or what I should be, I should choose the life, and work, and character of my father.”

David's voice faltered.

”Since when has that been your choice?” asked Philip.

”Always! I mean, always since he died. And, before that, he was my ideal of wisdom and goodness, though I did not particularly wish or try to be like him then?”

”And it was his wish that you should choose his profession, and live his life, and do his work?”

”He wished it,--yes. And now I wish it, not merely because of his wish, but because--I love my Lord and Master, and because I wish to honour Him as His soldier and servant--”

David did not find it easy to say all this to Philip, and there was silence for a minute or two.

”But haven't you been losing time?” said Philip.

”No. Mamma does not think so. Time should try a decision so important, she thinks. I am young yet, and I have been keeping up my reading pretty well. And, besides, she thinks the care, and the steady work, and our life altogether,--having to manage with just enough, you know,-- has been good discipline for me, and a sort of preparation.”

”I see! And when is the other sort of preparation to begin?”