All this had occurred seven years ago. During that time Lancelot Wellesley Gaymer had grown up sufficiently to go to a public school, and consequently Miss Joan Gaymer had been left very much in the company of the curious old gentleman whom she had soon learned to call Unker Zimmy. Of their relations it will be sufficient at present to mention that a more curiously assorted and more thoroughly devoted couple it would be difficult to find. Jimmy Marrable reclined on the window seat and smoked his cigar. His nephew, enviously eyeing the blue smoke, sprawled in an arm-chair. "Hughie," said the elder man suddenly, "how old are you? Twenty-one, isn't it?" "Yes." "And are you going down for good next week?" "Yes." Hughie sighed. "Got a degree?" "Tell you on Tuesday." "Tell me now." "Well--yes, I should think." "What in?" "Mechanical Stinks--Engineering. Second Class, if I'm lucky." "Um. Got any vices?" "Not specially." "Drink?" "No." "Not a teetotaller?" said Jimmy Marrable in some concern. "No." "That's good. Ever been drunk?" "Yes." "Badly, I mean. I'm not talking about bump-supper exhilaration." "Only once." "When?" "My first term." "What for?" "To see what it was like." "Perfectly sound proceeding," commented Jimmy Marrable. "What were your impressions of the experiment?" "I haven't got any," said Hughie frankly. "I only woke up next morning in bed with my boots on." "Who put you there?" "Seven other devils." "And you have not repeated the experiment?" "No. There's no need. I know my capacity to a glass now." "Then you know something really worth knowing," remarked Jimmy Marrable with sincerity. "Now, what are you going to do with yourself? Why not go and see the world a bit? You have always wanted to. And do it thoroughly while you are about it. Take five years over it; ten if you like. You _will_ like, you know. It's in the blood. That's why I think you are wise not to want to enter the Service. You can always scrape in somewhere if there _is_ a war, and barrack-life in time of peace would corrode your very heart out. It nearly killed your dad at five-and-twenty. That was why he exchanged and took to the Frontier, and ended his days in command of a Goorkha regiment. Life at first hand; that's what we Marrables thrive on! I never set foot in this country myself between the ages of twenty and thirty-three. I would come with you again if it wasn't for Anno Domini--and the nippers. But you'll find a good many old friends of mine dotted about the world. They're not all folk I could give you letters of introduction to--some of 'em don't speak English and others can't read and write; but they'll show you the ropes better than any courier. You take my advice, and go. England is no place for a young man with money and no particular profession, until he's over thirty and ready to marry. Will you go, Hughie?" Hughie's expression showed that he was considering the point rather reluctantly. His uncle continued:--