Chapter XVII. What the Letter Contained - Page 2

Ben promptly; "and I've got one of the best mothers going."

"So you have. Every one likes and respects Mrs. Barclay."

Any boy, who is worth anything, likes to hear his mother praised, and Ben liked Mr. Brown better for this tribute to the one whom he loved best on earth. He was not slow in making his way home. He went at once to the kitchen, where his mother was engaged in mixing bread.

"What's the matter, Ben? You look excited," said Mrs. Barkley.

"So I am, mother. I am offered a position."

"Not in the store?"

"No; it is in New York."

"In New York!" repeated his mother, in a troubled voice. "It would cost you all you could make to pay your board in some cheap boarding house. If it were really going to be for your own good, I might consent to part with you, but--"

"Read that letter, mother," said Ben. "You will see that I shall have an elegant home and a salary besides. It is a chance in a thousand."

Mrs. Barclay read the letter carefully.

"Can I go, mother?" Ben asked anxiously.

"It will be a sacrifice for me to part with you," returned his mother slowly; "but I agree with you that it is a rare chance, and I should be doing wrong to stand in the way of your good fortune. Mrs. Hamilton must have formed a very good opinion of you."

"She may be disappointed in me," said Ben modestly.

"I don't think she will," said Mrs. Barclay, with a proud and affectionate glance at her boy. "You have always been a good son, and that is the best of recommendations."

"I am afraid you are too partial, mother. I shall hate to leave you alone."

"I can bear loneliness if I know you are prospering, Ben."

"And it will only be for a time, mother. When I am a young man and earning a good income, I shall want you to come and live with me."

"All in good time, Ben. How soon do you want to go?"

"I think it better to lose no time, mother. You know I have no work to keep me in Pentonville."

"But it will take two or three days to get your clothes ready."

"You can send them to me by express. I shall send you the address."

Mrs. Barclay was a fond mother, but she was also a sensible woman. She felt that Ben was right, and, though it seemed very sudden, she gave him her permission to start the next morning. Had she objected strenuously, Ben would have given up his plan, much as he desired it, for he felt that his mother had the strongest claims upon him, and he would not have been willing to run counter to her wishes.

"Where are you going, Ben?" asked his mother, as Ben put on his hat and moved toward the door.