“Uncle Bob!  Aunt Ann!  Irv has some great news to-night.”

Mrs. Upton put her head out into the hall; she was setting the table and held a plate of bread.

“What is it, Irv?  Have you—­have you had a letter?”

There was an anxious, almost a regretful note in her voice.

“Yes,” said Irving.  “I’ll tell you about it when I come down.”

At the supper table he expounded all the details.  Like Mr. Beasley, his uncle and his aunt had never heard of St. Timothy’s School.  Irving was able to enlighten them.  At college he had become familiar with its reputation; it was one of the big preparatory schools in which the position of teacher had seemed to him desirable almost beyond the hope of attainment.

He recited the terms which had been offered and which he had accepted:  nine hundred dollars salary the first year, with lodging, board, washing all provided—­so that really it was the equivalent of fourteen or fifteen hundred dollars a year.  And then there would be the three months’ vacation, in which he could prosecute his law studies and earn additional money.

“Sounds good,” said Mr. Upton.

“Of course I’m very glad,” said Mrs. Upton.  “But how we shall miss you boys!  I’ve got used to having Irving away,—­but to be without Lawrence, too—­”

“Yes,” said her husband with a twinkle in his eyes, “we certainly shall miss Lawrence—­especially in haying time.  I’m glad you didn’t get this news till most of the hay crop was in.  No more farming for you this year, Lawrence.”

“Why, but there’s all the south meadow uncut—­”

“I’ll handle that.  As long as there was so much doubt as to whether you’d be able to go to college or not, I felt that you might be making yourself useful first of all and studying only in the odd moments.  Now it’s different; you’ve got to settle down to hard study and nothing else.  And Irving had better devote himself entirely to you, and leave Mr. Beasley to struggle along without any college help.”

“I don’t believe he’ll miss me very much,” Irving admitted.  “And you’re right, Uncle Bob; I can accomplish a great deal more working with Lawrence this next month.  I ought to be able to get him entered in regular standing.”

“If I can do that,” cried Lawrence, “perhaps I’ll be able to earn my way as Irv did—­tutoring and so on—­and not have to call on you or him for any help.”

“What on earth should I do with nine hundred a year?” Irving exclaimed.

“Save it for your law school fund,” said Lawrence.

Irving shrugged his shoulders grandly.  “Oh, I can earn money.”

Lawrence gave him an affectionate push.  “Tut!” he said.  “Be good to yourself once in a while.”

It was a happy family that evening.  The uncle and the aunt rejoiced in the good news, even while regretting the separation.