"Yes."
"Do you require an answer now."
"To-morrow will do."
"Let it be to-morrow, then, please, and I will think about it in the meanwhile."
Benny had decided the question, however, before he slept that night. Manchester was a strange place, Liverpool was his home. He knew every street for half a mile around the Custom House as well as he knew the lanes around Scout Farm. He had spent his childhood there; his earliest, ay, and his happiest recollections were associated with it. It had been the scene of his greatest struggles and triumphs. It had witnessed his deepest joy and his bitterest sorrow, and though he had left it in disgrace and pain, he loved it still. There were a few people there he had pined to see. It was Joe Wrag's home; it was Nelly's resting-place; granny lived there, and his Sunday-school teacher, and Mr. Lawrence, and——But never mind, Liverpool was dear to him still, and in the very spot from which he had been driven in disgrace he would start afresh.
Next morning he walked across to Brooklands, and asked to see Mr. Munroe.
"I have come," he said, as soon as that gentleman appeared, "to tell you that I cannot accept your very kind offer."
"I guessed as much," said Mr. Monroe, with a smile, "when I heard Mr. Lawrence had been after you. So
