And you are to be my teacher, Ralph.

I am sure you know everything that I shall need to know." Ralph laughed.
"I suppose you will examine me to see what I do know," he said, as he folded a heavy overcoat and laid it in the trunk.
Miriam sprang up and began to collect more of her effects.
"We shall see about that," she said, and then, suddenly stopping, she turned toward her brother.

"There is one thing, Ralph, about which I need not examine you at all, and that is goodness of heart.

If you had not had a very good heart indeed, you would not have waited and waited and waited--fairly pinching yourself, I expect--till I could get away from school and we could both go together and look at our new home in the very same instant." Ralph Haverley was a brown-haired, bright-eyed young fellow under thirty.
He had been educated for a profession, but the death of his parents, before he reached his majority, made it necessary for him to go to work at something by which he could immediately earn money enough to support not only himself, but his little sister.

At his father's death, which occurred a month or two after that of his mother, young Haverley found that the family resources, which had never been great, had almost entirely disappeared.