"It's not a proper place for a young man. I've learned nothing
there but a game we do with Blue-Books, and things you throw at the
ceiling--where they stick--I'll tell you about it presently. Besides,
you see, I must have some money, and it don't grow in the Foreign Office
for people like me. So I went to my uncle, Lord Forestier--"
"Of course!" growled Sir James. "I thought we should come to the uncles
before long. Miss Wilson, I desire to warn you against marrying a young
man of 'the classes.' They have no morals, but they have always uncles."
Miss Wilson's eyes shot laughter at her _fiance_. "Go on, Bobbie, and
don't make it too long!"
"I decline to be hustled." Bobbie's tone was firm, though urbane. "I
repeat: I went to my uncle. And I said to him, like the unemployed:
'Find me work, and none of your d----d charity!'"
"Which means, I suppose, that the last time you went to him, you
borrowed fifty pounds?" said Sir James.
"I shouldn't dream, sir, of betraying my uncle's affairs. On this
occasion--for an uncle--he behaved well. He lectured me for twenty-seven
minutes and a half--I had made up my mind beforehand not to let it go
over the half-hour--and then he came to business.
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