Yours faithfully--' They want me, mother, at a hundred and twenty a year, and don't even ask to see me.

Didn't I tell you I could do it! Think of me in London! And I can give you twenty pounds a year, mater.

We s'll all be rolling in money." "We shall, my son," she answered sadly.
It never occurred to him that she might be more hurt at his going away than glad of his success.

Indeed, as the days drew near for his departure, her heart began to close and grow dreary with despair.

She loved him so much! More than that, she hoped in him so much.