'I am
sorry that you should be so grieved,' continued the father, 'but
such delights cannot, I think, lead to much real joy.'
'It is for you, sir,' said the son, rubbing his eyes with the hand
which supported his head.
'My grief in the matter might soon be cured.'
'How shall I cure it? I will do anything to cure it.'
'Let Major Tifto and the horses go.'
'They are gone,' said Silverbridge energetically, jumping from his
chair as he spoke. 'I will never own a horse again, or a part of a
horse. I will have nothing more to do with races. You will believe
me?'
'I will believe anything that you tell me.'
'I won't say I will not go to another race, because--'
'No; no. I would not have you hamper yourself. Nor shall you bind
yourself by any further promises. You have done with racing.'
'Indeed, indeed I have, sir.'
Then the father came up to the son and put his arm round the young
man's shoulders and embraced him. 'Of course it made me unhappy.'
'I knew it would.'
'But if you are cured of this evil, the money is nothing.
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