“Ah, doctor,” said he, “you have made a man of me; for this is your doing, I know.”

“Of course I used my influence.  I was stimulated by two spurs, friendship and my hobby.  Now shake hands over it, and no fine speeches, but tell me when you can begin.  ’My soul’s in arms, and eager for the fray.’”

“Begin?  Why as soon as I get the money.”

“That will come down directly, if I telegraph that you accept the terms.  Call in a witness, and sign the agreement.”

Jael Dence was called in, and the agreement signed and witnessed, and away went the doctor in high spirits, after making an appointment with Henry in Hillsborough for the next day.

Henry and Jael Dence talked eagerly over his new prospects.  But though they were great friends, there was nothing to excite Grace’s jealousy.  No sooner was Little proved to be Raby’s nephew than Jael Dence, in her humility, shrank back, and was inwardly ashamed of herself.  She became respectful as well as kind; called him “the young master” behind his back, and tried to call him “Sir” to his face, only he would not let her.

Next day Little went to his mother and told her all.  She was deeply interested, but bitterly disappointed at Henry’s refusal of Raby’s offer.  “He will never forgive us now,” she said.  “And oh, Henry, if you love Grace Carden, that was the way to marry her.”  This staggered him; but he said he had every reason to hope she would marry him without his sacrificing his independence, and waiting with his hands in his pockets for dead men’s shoes.

Then he went to Dr. Amboyne, and there were the five hundred pounds waiting for him; but, never having possessed such a sum before, he begged the doctor to give him only L100 at a time.  To finish for the present with this branch of the story, he was lucky enough to make an excellent bargain, bought the plant and stock of a small master-grinder recently deceased.  He then confined the grinding to saws and razors; and this enabled him to set up his own forge on the premises, and to employ a few file-cutters.  It was all he could do at starting.  Then came the important question, What would the Trades say?  He was not long in suspense; Grotait called on him, expressed his regret at the attack that had been made on him, and his satisfaction that now the matter could be happily arranged.  “This,” said he, “is the very proposal I was going to make to you (but you wouldn’t hear me), to set up as a small master, and sell your carving-tools to London instead of to Hillsboro’.”

“What! will that make me right with the trade?”

“Pretty near.  We protect the workmen from unfair competition, not the masters.  However, if you wish to cure the sore altogether, let your own hands grind the tools, and send them out to be handled by Parkin:  he has got men on the box; trade is dull.”

“Well, I don’t object to that.”

“Then, I say, let by-gones be gone-byes.”