"I do mean it, Frederic, and it will be useless for you to argue the question," replied the lady, firmly.
"But this is a--a--all a mistake," he faltered.
"There is no mistake. And as I just said, I will not argue the question."
"You--you cast me out?"
"I do."
"But if you do that, what shall I do?"
"Go to work and make a man of yourself. Do that, and perhaps in time I will do something for you."
Frederic Vernon shook his head slowly. Then he faced Robert, and his proud face became black with illy-suppressed rage.
"This is your work, you young rascal----" he began, when his aunt stopped him.
"I will hear no talk like that here, Frederic," she said. "Robert is my best and truest friend, and you must respect him as such."
"He has done everything he could to cut me out!" howled the young spendthrift bitterly.
"That ain\'t so," burst out Robert. "You cut yourself out. Your aunt would never have discharged you had you done your work properly--she has told me that a number of times."
"I say it\'s a plot against me!" said Frederic Vernon, hardly knowing how to go on.
"Frederic, you are a very foolish young man," came from Mrs. Vernon gravely. "There was a time when I had unlimited confidence in you, and you could have retained that confidence had you chosen so to do. Instead, you became a spendthrift. Now you must go out into the world and earn your own living."
"What am I to go at?" he asked, in a hopeless tone. For the time being he seemed utterly crushed.
"You have a fair commercial education. You might become a bookkeeper."
"Bookkeepers don\'t earn their salt!" he snapped.
"Some of them earn twenty to forty dollars per week," put in Robert.
"Twenty to forty dollars! Do you suppose I am going to live on a beggarly twenty dollars per week! Perhaps a low-bred boy like you can do it. I am used to something better."
"I am not a low-bred boy," retorted Robert, clenching his fists, at which Frederic Vernon fell back before him. "I consider my breeding as good as yours, perhaps better."
"I will have no further arguments or quarrels," said Mrs. Vernon, coming between them.
"Aunt, do you mean to throw me off without a cent?" pleaded Frederic Vernon. "If you do that I shall starve, here among strangers. At least, pay my fare back to the United States."
"I do not want you to go back to the United States."
"Then where shall I go?"
"I have been thinking that over. Your best plan will be to strike out for some new country, say South Africa, South America, or perhaps Australia, where you can take a fresh start in life."
"I can\'t go to any of those places without money."
"I understand there are splendid openings in South Africa, and in Australia. If you will agree to go to one or the other of those places, and to keep away from the United States for at least five years, I will pay your passage money and give you a thousand dollars besides."
The young man\'s face brightened, but then it fell again.
"A thousand dollars isn\'t much," he ventured.
"It is enough."
"Make it five thousand, aunt, and I\'ll agree never to bother you again."
"No, I will not give you a cent more than the thousand dollars, and Robert shall buy your passage ticket."
"Always that boy!" howled the young man. "Cannot you trust me even to buy my own ticket?"
"I am sorry to say I cannot."
"You won\'t make it two thousand?" pleaded the wayward nephew.
"Well, I will give you fifteen hundred dollars," replied Mrs. Vernon, weakening a little. "That will give you a splendid start in some new place. Some men have made fortunes in South Africa and in Australia."
"I don\'t want to go to South Africa; I might try Australia. Dick Roberts went to Sydney, and, I believe, is doing first-rate."
"You ought to do as well as young Roberts. You have just as good an education."
"And how soon do you want me to start?"
"You must start within the next week."
"That is rather short notice."
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CHAPTER XXII. FARMER PARSONS\' STORY.
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