“He is at Little River, sir, going on with his studies.”

“He made very good progress —­ very good indeed —­ he’s a young man of talent, your brother.  He’s a smart fellow.  He’s going on to fit himself to enter college, ain’t he?”

“Yes sir.”

“He’ll do well —­ he can do what he’s a mind.  Well, Mr. Landholm —­ what are you going to turn your hand to?”

“I have hardly determined, sir, yet.”

“You’ll see your brother —­ something, I don’t know what, one of these days, and you’ll always be his brother, you know.  Now what are you going to make of yourself? —­ merchant or farmer?”

“Neither, sir.”

“No?” —­ said Mr. Glanbally.  He looked a little surprised, for Mr. Landholm’s letter had spoken of “a few weeks.”

“Well, what then?”

“I don’t know what I shall like best, sir,” said Winthrop.

“No, not yet; perhaps not yet.  You’ll be a happy man if ever you do, sir. I never knew what I liked best, till I couldn’t have it.  Well sir —­ what do you calculate to begin upon? —­ a little arithmetic, I suppose, won’t be out of the way.”

“I should like —­ Latin, if you please, sir.”

“Latin!  Then you’re following your brother’s steps?  I am glad of it!  It does me good to see boys studying Latin.  That’s right.  Latin.  And Algebra, perhaps.”

“Yes sir.”

“I’ll put you into Algebra, as soon as you like.”

“I shall want books, I suppose, sir.  Can I get them here?”

“No; you can’t get ’em, I’m afraid, this side of Deerford.”

“Deerford?”

“That’s six miles off, or so.”

“I can’t walk there to-night,” said Winthrop; “but I’ll go to-morrow.”

“Walk there to-night! no, —­ but we’ll see.  I think you’ve got the stuff in you.  To-night! —­ Maybe we can find some old books that will do to begin with; and you can walk over there some waste afternoon.  How far have you come to-day?”

“About thirteen miles, sir, from home.”

“On foot?”

“Yes sir.”

“And you want half a dozen more to-night?”

“No sir,” said Winthrop, smiling, —­ “not if I might choose.”

“You’ll find a day.  Your father spoke to me about your lodgings.  You can lodge here, where I do; only twelve shillings a week.  I’ll speak to Mrs. Nelson about it; and you can just make yourself at home.  I’m very glad to see you.”

‘Make himself at home’!  Winthrop’s heart gave an emphatic answer, as he drew up a chair the opposite side of the fireplace.  Make himself at home.  That might only be done by a swift transport of thirteen miles.  He could not do it, if he would.  Would he, if he could?  Nay, he had set his face up the mountain of learning, and not all the luring voices that might sound behind and beside him could tempt him to turn back.  He must have the Golden Water that was at the top.