But suddenly the red face broke into a smile, exposing such an array of
greenish teeth as Peer had never seen before. Then he said in a sort of
singsong, nodding: "A priest? Oh, indeed! Quite a small matter!" He rose
and wandered once or twice up and down the room, then stopped,
nodded, and said in a fatherly tone--to one of the bookshelves:
"H'm--really--really--we're a little ambitious, are we not?"
He turned on Peer suddenly. "Look here, my young friend--don't you think
your benefactor has been quite generous enough to you already?"
"Yes, indeed he has," said Peer, his voice beginning to tremble a
little.
"There are thousands of boys in your position who are thrown out in the
world after confirmation and left to shift for themselves, without a
soul to lend them a helping hand."
"Yes," gasped Peer, looking round involuntarily towards the door.
"I can't understand--who can have put these wild ideas into your head?"
With an effort Peer managed to get out: "It's always been what I wanted.
And he--father--"
"Who? Father--? Do you mean your benefactor?"
"Well, he was my father, wasn't he?" burst out Peer.
The schoolmaster tottered back and sank into a chair, staring at Peer as
if he thought him a quite hopeless subject. At last he recovered so far
as to say: "Look here, my lad, don't you think you might be content to
call him--now and for the future--just your benefactor? Don't you think
he deserves it?"
"Oh, yes," whispered Peer, almost in tears.
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