His face hardened and he frowned.

“I may pay him for all he’s done for me, whether or no,” he answered.  “Anyway, I don’t want any more book learning.  I’m a man very nearly, and a lot cleverer, as it is, than the other men here.  I shall stop here for a bit.  I want to be let alone and I will be let alone.”

“Not at all,” declared Mr. Churchouse.  “You’re going back on yourself, Abel, and if you stop here, hoeing turnips and what not, you’ll soon find a great disaster happening to you.  You will indeed—­just the very thing you don’t want to happen.  You pride yourself on being clever.  Well, cleverness can’t stand still, you know.  You go back, or forward.  Here, you’ll go back and get as slow-witted as other ploughboys.  You think you won’t, but you will.  The mud on your boots will work up into your mind, and instead of being full of great ideas for the future, you’ll gradually forget all about them.  And that would be a disgrace to you.”

Abel showed himself rather impressed with this peril.

“I shall read books,” he said.

“Where will you get them?” asked Estelle.  “Besides, after long days working out of doors, you’ll be much too tired to read books, or go on with your studies.  I know, because I’ve tried it.”

“Quies was the god of rest in ancient Rome,” proceeded Mr. Churchouse, “but he was no god for youth.  The elderly turned their weary bodies to his shrine and decorated his altars—­not the young.  But for you, Abel, there are radiant goddesses, and their names are Stimula and Strenua.  To them you must pay suit and service, and your motto should be ’Able and Willing.’”

“Of course,” cried Estelle; “but instead of that, you ask to be let alone, to turn slowly and surely into a ploughboy!  Why, the harm is already beginning!  And you may be quite sure that nobody who cares for you is going to see you turn into a ploughboy.”

They produced some lunch presently and Abel enjoyed the good fare.  For a time they pressed him no more, but when the meal was taken, let him show them places of interest.  While Estelle visited the farm with him and heard all about his work, Mr. Churchouse discussed the boy with his master.  Nothing could then be settled, and it was understood that Abel should stop at Knapp until the farmer heard more concerning him.

Estelle advanced the good cause very substantially, however, and felt sanguine of the future; for alone with her, Abel confessed that farming gave him no pleasure and that his ambition was set on higher things.

“I shall be an engineer some day,” he said.  “Presently I shall go where there is machinery, and begin at the bottom and work up to the top.  I know a lot more about it than you might think, as it is.”

“I know you do,” she said.  “And there’s nothing your mother would like better than engineering for you.  Besides, a boy begins that when he’s young, and I believe you ought to be in the shops soon.”