So Rufus thought, and glanced at him sundry times, though he did not think fit to interrupt him.

He lifted his head at last and passing them over coolly to Rufus, drew _his_ book near and opened his dictionary.

He did not look up while Rufus read, nor when after reading he began to walk with thoughtful large strides up and down the little room.
"Governor!" said Rufus suddenly and without looking at him, "sometimes I am half tempted to think I will take Mr.Haye's offer." "Did he make you an offer ?" "He said what was near enough to it." "What tempts you, Will ?" "Poverty.

It is only, after all, taking a short road instead of a long one to the same end." "The end of what ?" said Winthrop.
"Of painstaking and struggling." There was silence, during which Rufus continued his strides through the room, and the leaves of Winthrop's books ever and anon turned and rustled.
"What do you think of it ?" "Nothing." "Why ?" "I don't believe in drinking of a roiled stream because it happens to be the first one you come to." "Not if you are dry ?" "No, -- not unless everything else is, too." "But merchandise is a very honourable pursuit," said Rufus, walking and studying the floor.
"Certainly.

-- Twelve feet is a good growth for dogwood, isn't it ?" said Winthrop gravely, looking up and meeting his cool grey eye with that of his brother.
Rufus first stared, and then answered, and then burst into a fit of laughter.