Grant, however, was more hopeful.  He didn’t see why his uncle should object, and it would cost him no more money.  It seemed to him very plain sailing, and he set out to walk to Somerset, full of courage and hope.

It was a pretty direct road, and the distance—­five miles—­was not formidable to a strong-limbed boy like Grant.  In an hour and a half he entered the village, and soon reached the small one-story building which served his uncle as an office.

Entering, he saw his uncle busy with some papers at his desk.

The old lawyer raised his eyes as the door opened.

“So it’s you, Grant, is it?” he said.  “Nobody sick at home, eh?”

“No, Uncle Godfrey, we are all well.”

“I was afraid some one might be sick, from your coming over.  However, I suppose you have some errand in Somerset.”

“My only errand is to call upon you, uncle.”

“I suppose I am to consider that a compliment,” said the old bachelor, not ill pleased.  “Well, and when are you going to be ready for college?”

“I can be ready to enter in September,” replied Grant.

“That is good.  All you will have to do will be to present yourself for examination.  I shall see you through, as I have promised.”

“You are very kind, Uncle Godfrey,” said Grant; and then he hesitated.

“It’s Thornton family pride, Grant.  I want my nephew to be somebody.  I want you to be a professional man, and take a prominent place in the world.”

“Can’t I be somebody without becoming a professional man, or—–­”

“Or, what?” asked his uncle, abruptly.

“Getting a college education?” continued Grant.

“What does this mean?” asked the old lawyer, knitting his brow.  “You’re not getting off the notion of going to college, I hope?”

“I should like to go to college, uncle.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” said Godfrey Thornton, relieved.  “I thought you might want to grow up a dunce, and become a bricklayer or something of that kind.”

Somehow Grant’s task began to seem more difficult than he had anticipated.

“But,” continued Grant, summoning up his courage, “I am afraid it will be rather selfish.”

“I can’t say I understand you, Grant.  As long as I am willing to pay your college bills, I don’t see why there is anything selfish in your accepting my offer.”

“I mean as regards father and mother.”

“Don’t I take you off their hands?  What do you mean?”

“I mean this, Uncle Godfrey,” said Grant, boldly, “I ought to be at work earning money to keep them.  Father’s income is very small, and—­”

“You don’t mean to say you want to give up going to college?” said Godfrey Thornton, hastily.

“I think I ought to, uncle.”

“Why?”

“So that I can find work and help father along.  You see, I should be four years in college, and three years studying a profession, and all that time my brother and sister would be growing older and more expensive, and father would be getting into debt.”