"Ah, if there were no Flavia, no Champdoce;" then, speaking aloud, he resumed, "don't fancy, my dear boy, that I wish to condemn you to the treadmill that I am compelled to pass my life in.

I have other views for you, far more worthy of your merits.

I have taken a great liking to you, and I will do all I can to further your ambitious views.

I was thinking a great deal of you, and in my head I raised the scaffolding of your future greatness.

'He is poor,' said I, 'and at his age, and with his tastes, this is a cruel thing.