"But what, Frank?" repeated his mother, taking his hands in hers and
looking earnestly into his face.

"Well, mother, it's no use pretending. I'm not cut out for keeping shop,
and I'll never be much good at it. I don't like being in-doors all day.
And then, if you want to get on, you've got to do all sorts of things
that are nothing else but downright mean; and I don't like that either."
And then Frank went on to tell of some of the tricks and stratagems the
squire or the other clerks would resort to in order to make a good
bargain.

Mrs. Kingston listened with profound attention. More than once of late,
as she noticed her son's growing pallor and loss of spirits, she had
asked herself whether she were not doing wrong in seeking to turn him
aside from the life for which he longed; and now that he was finding
fresh and fatal objections to the occupation he had chosen in deference
to her wishes, she began to relent of her insistence, and to feel more
disposed to discuss the question again. But before doing so she wished to
ask the advice of a friend in whom she placed much confidence, and so for
the present she contented herself with applauding Frank for his
conscientiousness, and assuring him that she would a thousand times
rather have him always poor than grow rich after the same fashion as
Squire Eagleson.

The friend whose advice Mrs. Kingston wished to take was her husband's
successor as foreman at the depot for the lumber camps--a sensible,
steady, reliable young man, who had risen to his present position
by process of promotion from the bottom, and who was therefore well
qualified to give her just the counsel she desired. At the first