‘Did she seem to take it—­in the right way?’

‘She evidently thinks of me too much as a schoolboy.’

And he began to pace the room.  Mrs. Peak sat still, with an air of anxious brooding.

‘You don’t think she will refuse, Godwin?’ fell from her presently.

His hand closed on the letter.

’Why?  Well, in that case I should go to London and find some occupation as soon as possible.  You could still let me have the same money as before?’

‘Yes.’

It was said absently, and did not satisfy Godwin.  In the course of the conversation it appeared that Mrs. Peak had that morning been to see the legal friend who looked after her small concerns, and though she would not admit that she had any special cause for uneasiness, her son recalled similar occasions when an interview with Mr. Dutch had been followed by several days’ gloom.  The truth was that Mrs Peak could not live strictly within the income at her disposal, and on being from time to time reminded of this, she was oppressed by passing worry.  If Godwin and Oliver ‘got on well,’ things would come all right in the end, but in the meantime she could not face additional expenditure.  Godwin did not like to be reminded of the razor’s edge on which the affairs of the household were balanced.  At present it brought about a very sudden change in his state of mind; he went upstairs again, and sat with the letter before him, sunk in misery.  The reaction had given him a headache.

A fortnight, and no word from Lady Whitelaw.  But neither was
Godwin’s letter posted.

Was he at liberty to indulge the self-respect which urged him to write?  In a moment of heated confidence it was all very well to talk of ‘getting some occupation’ in London, but he knew that this might prove no easy matter.  A year’s work at the School of Mines would decidedly facilitate his endeavour; and, seeing that his mother’s peace depended upon his being speedily self-supporting, was it not a form of selfishness to reject help from one who could well afford it?  From a distance, he regarded Lady Whitelaw with more charity; a longer talk with her might have led to better mutual apprehension.  And, after all, it was not she but her husband to whom he would stand indebted.  Sir Job was a very kind-hearted old fellow; he had meant thoroughly well.  Why, clearly, the bestower of this third year’s allowance would not be Lady Whitelaw at all.

If it were granted.  Godwin began to suffer a troublesome misgiving; perchance he had gone too far, and was now, in fact, abandoned to his own resources.

Three weeks.  Then came the expected letter, and, as he opened it, his heart leaped at the sight of a cheque—­talisman of unrivalled power over the emotions of the moneyless!  Lady Whitelaw wrote briefly and formally.  Having considered Godwin’s request, she had no reason for doubting that he would make a good use of the proposed year at the School of Mines, and accordingly she sent him the sum which Sir Job had intended for his final session at Whitelaw College.  She wished him all benefit from his studies, and prosperity henceforth.