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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Robert Falconer"

Nor had the thought of finding his father any share in his
restlessness.
He told his grandmother that he was going back to Aberdeen. She
looked in his face with surprise, but seeing trouble there, asked no
questions. As if walking in a dream, he found himself at Dr.
Anderson's door.
'Why, Robert,' said the good man, 'what has brought you back? Ah!
I see. Poor Ericson! I am very sorry, my boy. What can I do for
you?'
'I can't go on with my studies now, sir,' answered Robert. 'I have
taken a great longing for travel. Will you give me a little money
and let me go?'
'To be sure I will. Where do you want to go?'
'I don't know. Perhaps as I go I shall find myself wanting to go
somewhere. You're not afraid to trust me, are you, sir?'
'Not in the least, Robert. I trust you perfectly. You shall do
just as you please.--Have you any idea, how much money you will
want?'
'No. Give me what you are willing I should spend: I will go by
that.'
'Come along to the bank then. I will give you enough to start with.
Write at once when you want more. Don't be too saving. Enjoy
yourself as well as you can. I shall not grudge it.'
Robert smiled a wan smile at the idea of enjoying himself. His
friend saw it, but let it pass. There was no good in persuading a
man whose grief was all he had left, that he must ere long part with
that too. That would have been in lowest deeps of sorrow to open a
yet lower deep of horror.


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