'You see, lad, I have your interest at my heart. It is all very well being an athlete. You're a handsome young fellow too--just like me when I was a young fellow. Might marry into any county family. But cricket and football and rowing stroke aren't everything, Frank, and it is high time you were looking ahead--choosing your career. Well, well,' continued the squire impatiently, 'have you nothing to say?' 'Oh yes,' cried Frank Antony, beaming now. 'I put that filly at a fence to-day, father, and'---- 'Hang the filly! I want you to choose a career; do you hear?' 'Yes, father.' 'Well, I'm here to help you all I can. Let us see! You're well educated; too much so for the Church, perhaps.' 'Not good enough anyhow, dad, to wear a hassock. Whew! I mean a cassock.' 'Well, there are the civil and the diplomatic services.' Antony shook an impatient head. 'And you're too old for the army. But--now listen, Frank. I expect your eyes to gleam, lad, when I mention the term: a parliamentary career! Think of it, lad; think of it. Just think of the long vista of splendid possibilities that these two words can conjure up before a young man with the blood of a Blake in his veins.' Frank Antony did not seem at all impressed; not even a little bit. 'I'm afraid, father, I'm a lazy rascal,' he said, almost pitying the enthusiasm which he himself could not appreciate. 'I'm not so clever as my dear old dad, and I fear the House would bore me. Never could make a speech either, so'---- 'Speech!' roared the squire, 'why, you'll never be asked to. They wouldn't let you. They'd cough you down, groan you down, laugh you down. Besides, clever men don't make speeches nowadays--only the fools.' Young Antony suppressed a yawn. 'Very good, my boy, very good!'--his dad was shaking hands with him--'and I honour you for your choice. And I'm of precisely the same opinion. There's nothing like a seat in the House.' 'Rather have one on the hillside though, daddy, all among the grouse.' His father didn't hear him. 'And now, Frank, I'm not an ordinary father, you know; and, before entering the House, I don't see in the least why you shouldn't have your fling for a year or two. I maintain that all young fellows should have their fling. A hundred years or so agone I had my fling. Look at me now. Am I any the worse? Well, I've just put a bit in the bank for you, lad, so go and do your best.' Frank was laughing merrily. He put his hand in what he called his rabbit-pocket and handed out a book: _The Gamekeeper at Home_. 'That is my lay, dad,' he said. 'I only want to potter around and fish and shoot, or hunt in season. Don't like London. Hate Paris. Not at home in so-called society. I'll just have my fling in my own humdrum fashion, daddy, thank you all the same. I'll have my fling, depend upon it.' The young man was smiling to himself at some recollection. 'What is it, Frank?'