Hectors Inheritance | Page 9

which is very important, since you will have to carve your own future."
There was no objection to make to all this. Still, it did grate upon Hector's feelings, to be so often reminded of his penniless position, when till recently he had regarded himself, and had been regarded by others, as a boy of large property.
Smithville was accessible by railroad, being on the same line as the town of Plympton in which Roscoe Castle was situated. There was a train starting at seven o'dock, which reached Smithville at half-past, eight. This was felt to be the proper train to take, as it would enable Hector to reach school before the morning session began. Allan Roscoe, who was not an early riser, made an effort to rise in time, and succeeded. In truth, he was anxious to get Hector out of the house. It might be that the boy's presence was a tacit reproach, it might be that he had contracted a dislike for him. At any rate, when Hector descended to the breakfast room, he found Mr. Roscoe already there.
"You are in time, Hector," said Mr. Roscoe. "I don't know how early they will get up at school, but I hope it won't be earlier than this."
"I have no objection to early rising," said Hector.
"I have," said Allan Roscoe, gaping.
"I am sorry to have inconvenienced you," said Hector, politely. "I could have gone to school alone."
"No doubt; but I wished an interview with Mr. Socrates Smith myself. I look upon myself in the light of your guardian, though you are not my nephew, as was originally supposed."
"I'd give a good deal to know whether this is true," thought Hector, fixing his eyes attentively upon his uncle's face.
I have written "uncle" inadvertently, that being the character in which Mr. Roscoe appeared to the world.
"By the way, Hector," said Allan Roscoe, "there is one matter which we have not yet settled."
"What is that, sir?"
"About your name."
"My name is Hector Roscoe."
"I beg your pardon. Assuming by brother's communication to be true, and I think you will not question his word, you have no claim to the name."
"To what name have I a claim, then?" asked Hector, pointedly.
"To the name of your father--the last name, I mean. I have no objection to your retaining the name of Hector."
"What was the name of my, father?" asked the boy.
"Ahem! My brother did not mention that in his letter. Quite an omission, I must observe."
"Then it is clear that he meant to have me retain his own name," said Hector, decisively.
"That does not follow."
"As I know no other name to which I have a claim, I shall certainly keep the name of the kindest friend I ever had, whether he was my father or not," said Hector, firmly.
Allan Roscoe looked annoyed.
"Really," he said, "I think this ill-judged, very ill-judged. It will lead to misapprehension. It will deceive people into the belief that you are a real Roscoe."
"I don't know but I am," answered Hector, with a calm look of defiance, which aggravated Allan Roscoe.
"Have I not told you you are not?" he said, frowning.
"You have; but you have not proved it," said Hector.
"I am surprised that you should cling to a foolish delusion. You are only preparing trouble for yourself. If my word is not sufficient--"
"You are an interested party. This story, if true, gives you my property."
"At any rate, you may take your father's--I mean my brother's--word for it."
"If he had told me so, I would believe it," said Hector.
"You have it in black and white, in the paper I showed you. What more do you want?"
"I want to be sure that that document is genuine. However, I won't argue the question now. I have only been giving you my reasons for keeping the name I have always regarded as mine."
Allan Roscoe thought it best to drop the subject; but the boy's persistency disturbed him.
CHAPTER VI.
SMITH INSTITUTE.

Socrates Smith, A. M., was not always known by the philosophic name by which he challenged the world's respect as a man of learning and distinguished attainments. When a boy in his teens, and an academy student, he was known simply as Shadrach Smith. His boy companions used to address him familiarly as Shad. It was clear that no pedagogue could retain the respect of his pupils who might readily be metamorphosed into Old Shad. By the advice of a brother preacher, he dropped the plebeian name, and bloomed forth as Socrates Smith, A. M.
I may say, in confidence, that no one knew from what college Mr. Smith obtained the degree of Master of Arts. He always evaded the question himself, saying that it was given him by a Western university causa honoris.
It might be, or it might not. At any rate, he was allowed to wear the title, since