“Oh well,” Mr. Cameron said. “I can do that. There are always jobs waiting for young men, if they are the right sort. I supported myself entirely after I was fifteen, as a matter of fact.”
Mrs. Lane proceeded bravely to the most difficult part of her purpose.
“I am going to ask something really bold, dear Mr. Cameron. Do you think that William could be useful somehow to your son? Could he not perhaps look after him, help him even with his lessons? When — if, of course — he should be ill, William could look out for him, you know — go to his classes and take notes for him — that sort of thing.”
Mrs. Lane was faltering under Roger Cameron’s stern eyes, and she looked pleadingly at Mrs. Cameron for relief. To her joy she saw a mild approval there.
“It might be a good idea, Roger,” Mrs. Cameron said.
“William’s a proud sort of fellow,” Roger replied.
“Not too proud to help his friend,” Mrs. Lane said. “William is a Christian boy, Mr. Cameron.”
Roger pursed his lips. “How much do you expect me to pay him?”
Mrs. Lane knew her battle was over. She shook her head and folded her hands in her lap. “Please don’t ask me that, Mr. Cameron. I trust your judgment — and your generosity. I wish there need be no talk of money — it’s so dreadful. Had my husband remained in this country instead of choosing poverty upon the mission field … but no matter!” She smiled sadly and changed the subject. After ten minutes of lively talk made up of news from her husband’s recent letters, she rose to say good-by. She clasped Mrs. Cameron’s hand between both her own and smiled bravely. “I cannot tell you how safe I feel now about William. I leave him in your care, dear friends.”
Mr. and Mrs. Cameron bowed, still looking a little bewildered. When the door had closed they sat down again exactly as they were before and Mr. Cameron picked up the Transcript. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, and Mrs. Cameron gazed out of the window into the garden.
“It is a good thing that William Lane is so handsome,” she said at last. “We really won’t mind having him about. Candy says he is clever. I do hope he will always be good to Jeremy. Sometimes I think there is something cruel about his mouth. His hands are small for such a tall boy. Have you noticed that? I always think small hands mean cruelty in a man.”
She did not speak often but when she did a little rush of words came from her lips, as though reserve had temporarily been removed.
Mr. Cameron listened, still reading the paper. “It won’t hurt Jeremy to have a strong young fellow around to keep him lively.”
Mrs. Cameron did not reply for some little time. Then she said, “As for vacations, you must not forget that Candace is also in the house. The two of them, both being so healthy, will want to play games together. … I shouldn’t at all like her to marry the son of a missionary.”
“Candy will marry whom she pleases,” Mr. Cameron said. He loved his daughter and was proud of her, though with steady pessimism. Sooner or later the young always betrayed the old.
“Do keep quiet, there’s a good girl,” he went on. “This Bryan is putting me into a state, even on Sunday. He’ll be the death of us all, talking about the Philippines. What does he know about those foreigners over there?”
Mrs. Cameron fell silent, and Mr. Cameron read the paper with fury, chewing the yellowed ends of his mustache.
The examinations were easily passed, for which William was grateful to the hard grueling of English schoolmasters. He was practical enough to realize that he could also thank his own talents and ambition. It was intolerable for him not to do well and so he did well. When Mr. Cameron had asked him to come and see him, one day after his mother had sailed for China, he went with some excitement within, although with entire calm upon his surface. His mother had told him, not quite truthfully perhaps, what Mr. Cameron would talk about.
“He has some idea that you might be a sort of tutor for Jeremy,” she had said that last day. “Don’t get proud and refuse it, William. Remember the alternative is dishwashing or waiting on the college tables. Besides, no one need know. You will simply be Jeremy’s roommate and you will have the chance to live in those beautiful rooms. I don’t think I could get you in there otherwise.”
The beautiful rooms, he had already discovered, were on that short and noble street called the Gold Coast. There the sons of the wealthy lived like young princes in suites of rooms with separate bedrooms, a private bath, and a shared living room. Anything less seemed impossible to William. He made up his mind that he would accept whatever Mr. Cameron offered.
He was pleasantly grateful, then, when the offer was made.
“I leave it to you,” Mr. Cameron said, “to see how you can help my boy. You know him pretty well now, don’t you?”
“I think so,” William said, and he added quite sincerely, “at least I like him more than any boy I’ve ever known.”
“That’s good,” Mr. Cameron said with more heartiness than usual. “Then you can help him, I guess. Keep him cheerful, you know — that’s very important. We don’t believe in medication. It’s very important to believe in the power of mind over matter.”
“Yes, sir,” William said.
“Now,” Mr. Cameron went on. “Will a hundred dollars a month be about right?”
“Whatever you say, sir,” William replied. He was startled by the amount, but he would not show his amazement.
“Well, if you find it isn’t enough you can let me know,” Mr. Cameron said. “And look here, one more thing, what say we keep this little arrangement to ourselves? It might make Jeremy feel queer with you. He’s democratic and all that.”
“You mean just you and me, sir?” He thought of Candace. He did not want her to know that her father was paying him.
“Just us,” Mr. Cameron said. “Of course, Mrs. Cameron knows the general idea, but she won’t say anything if I tell her not to, and she isn’t interested in details.”
“I’d like it,” William said. “That is, sir, I’d like to forget it myself, so that I won’t be thinking of money in connection with Jeremy.”
“No, no,” Mr. Cameron said, quite pleased.
“I’ll just ask him if he will let me room with him,” William suggested.
“That’s right,” Mr. Cameron said. “You fix it up and on the first of every month there’ll be a check.”
The outcome of this was that when the two young men entered college, William found himself on the Gold Coast, with a bedroom of his own across the pleasant living room from Jeremy’s. Mrs. Cameron came with them and spent a week furnishing the rooms properly. There was even a small grand piano for Jeremy to use. William, secure in the monthly check, spent the money his mother had left him to buy himself a few luxuries that she had not been able to persuade the agitated mission treasurer to include in his necessities, a handsome set of razors, some silk pajamas, a blue brocaded satin dressing gown and leather slippers to match.
Thus William began his four years of college. He was reserved, modest, and dignified, and took his work with secret seriousness, though outward ease. He fulfilled exactly his every obligation to Jeremy and was at once kind and stern. He felt sometimes that Jeremy did not like him but he did not allow this to disturb him. The brilliance of his own academic standing was answer enough. Among the hundreds of young men who were matriculated at Harvard that year, William was notable. In prudence he made no close friends as the months passed, but he surveyed the Gold Coast carefully. It did not occur to him to search for friends outside that bright area. He marked here and there men whom he might cultivate as time went on. There was plenty of time.