"It is just what my father would say," returned John, taking this as
a high compliment; "it would be very foolish of Lucas to give up a
certainty for this just because of his Skipjack element, which
doesn't want to get into routine harness. Now, don't you think so,
Mother Carey?"
"_If_ I thought it _was_ the Skipjack element," she said, smiling.
"If it is not," he said, the colour now spreading all over his face,
"I am all the more bound not to let him give up all his prospects in
life."
"_All_ my prospects! My dear Monk, do you think they don't go beyond
a brougham, and unlimited staircases?"
"I only know," cried John, nettled into being a little off his guard,
"that what you despise would be all the world to me!"
The admission was hailed triumphantly, but the Kencroft nature was
too resolute, and the individual conscience too generous, to be
brought round to accept the sacrifice, which John estimated at the
value of the importance it was to himself, viewing what was real in
Lucas's distaste, as mere erratic folly, which ought to be argued
down. Finally, when the argument had gone round into at least its
fiftieth circle, Mother Carey declared that she would have no more of
it. Lucas should write a note to Dr. Ruthven, accepting his proposal
for one or other of them, and promising that he should know which, in
the course of a few days; so that John, if he chose, could write to
his father or _anyone_ else.
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