'
'Why don't you be putting it in the bank, Howel, bach? It will make a
gentleman of you.'
'There's enough besides to make me a gentleman, if I am not one already;
and I promise you, that when I am clear again I will come back and make
all the rich men in the country hang their heads. But I want to see
Netta.'
'Write you a bit of a note, and I will manage to send it.'
'Pick up the money, mother, and I will write the note.' Mrs Jenkins
proceeded to obey her son, whilst he unlocked a desk, and wrote the
following hasty lines:--
'I must be in London next Monday. I must see you before I leave. Meet
me at the old place in the wood by the little Fall, Sunday evening,
during church time.'
He folded the note without signing it, and gave it to his mother,
without adding any address.
'Seal it mother, and deliver it, or rather send it by some one you can
trust.'
'I'll manage that. Now pick you up some of the money. Here's a hundred
pound in my apron now, and gracious me! the lots more!'
'If you will keep the hundred pounds in your apron, mother, and let me
have the rest, I shall be satisfied.'
'But what'll you be doing with all this goold?'
'Preparing to make you the mother of Councillor Jenkins, or of a famous
man of some sort or other.
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