"Money all right, I suppose? You have eight hundred a-year now you are of age. Got any debts, eh? I'll help you." "None to speak of. Thanks all the same." "Well; why not go?" "I should like to go more than anything," said Hughie slowly, "but--" "Well?" "I don't know--that is--" "I _do_," said Jimmy Marrable with characteristic frankness. "You are struggling between an instinct which tells you to do the sensible thing and an overpowering desire to do a dashed silly one." Hughie grew very red. His uncle continued:-- "You want to marry that girl." Hughie blazed up. "I do," he said, rather defiantly. The cigar glowed undisturbedly. "You think that life has no greater happiness to offer you?" "I am sure of it," said Hughie, with an air of one stating a simple truth. "And you are twenty-one?" "Ye--es," with less fire. Jimmy Marrable smoked reflectively for a few minutes. "I am an old bachelor," he said at last, "and old bachelors are supposed to know nothing about love-affairs. The truth of course is that they know far more than any one else." Hughie was accustomed to these _obiter dicta_. "Why?" he asked dutifully. "Well, for the same reason that a broken swashbuckler knows a deal more about soldiering than a duly enrolled private of the line. He has had a more varied experience. The longer a man remains a bachelor the more he learns about women; and the more he learns about women the better able he will be to make his way in the world. Therefore, if he marries young he reduces his chances of success in life to a minimum. The sad part about it all is that, provided he gets the girl he wants, he doesn't care. That, by the way, is the reason why nearly all the most famous men in history have either been unhappily married or not married at all. Happiness has no history. Happily married men are never ambitious. They don't go toiling and panting after--" "They have no need to," said Hughie. "A man doesn't go on running after a tram-car after he has caught it." "That begs the question, Hughie. It presumes that all the available happiness in the world is contained in one particular tram-car. Besides, the tram-cars you mean are intended for men over thirty. The young ought to walk." Hughie realised that the conversation was growing rather too subtle for him, and reverted to plain cut and thrust. "Then you think no man should marry before thirty?" he said. "Nothing of the kind! It depends on the man. If he is a steady, decent, average sort of fellow, who regards a ledger as a Bible and an office-stool as a stepping-stone to the summit of the universe, and possesses no particular aptitude for the rough-and-tumble of life, the sooner he marries and settles down as a contented old pram-pusher the better for him and the nation. Do you fancy yourself in that line, Hughie?" "No-o-o," said Hughie reluctantly. "But I might learn," he added hopefully. "I'm a pretty adaptable bloke."