“I don’t jeer, Uncle Dick, and I am sorry my tongue was too many for me; but I can see both sides of the question, and it _is_ hard that, after indulging Owen as a boy, sending him to Eton, putting him into the Hussars, and letting him become accustomed to the Service, sport, and society, you suddenly pull up and throw him out in the world to sink or swim. What can he do?” “That is for him to find out, and, since he wouldn’t pull up, I must.” “Listen to me,” she said, rising and coming closer to him; “supposing Owen were to give you a promise in writing that he would stick steadily to one situation for two years, what would you say then?” “I’d say that the promise would not be worth the paper it was written on!” he answered, with gruff emphasis. “Give _me_ deeds, not documents.” “Oh, so that is your opinion and your last word?” “It’s my opinion--yes--but as to the last word, of course it’s _your_ perquisite!” and he chuckled complacently. Lady Kesters stood for a moment looking steadily at her uncle, and he as steadily at her. Then she slowly crossed the room and touched a bell to summon a footman, who presently ushered her out of the house. CHAPTER IV LEILA’S IDEA As Lady Kesters motored home in her smart new Rolls-Royce, her expression was unusually grave; for once Uncle Dick had proved invulnerable, and she was overpowered with surprise; for her ladyship was so accustomed “to push the world before her,” to borrow an Irish expression, that any little resistance affected her in the nature of a shock. Her brother was awaiting her in the smoking-room, and as she entered and threw off her furs, he said-- “So it was no go, Leila! Your embassy was a failure; defeat is written on your face--ahem--I told you so!” “Now, Owen, I call this base ingratitude. I’ve wasted my whole morning fighting for you, I am worsted in the battle, and you receive me with grins and gibes!” “You see, I can understand Uncle Dick’s attitude; he is pretty sick of me, and I don’t blame him; after all, when you come to think of it, why should he support a healthy, able-bodied duffer simply because he is his nephew?” “Worse than that,” amended his sister, “his heir! _I_ can understand his attitude even better than you, Owen. As a young man he never had any real fling, and could scarcely afford cabs and clothes or anything he wanted. He was hampered by a hopelessly extravagant father.” “And now in his old age he is tormented by a spendthrift nephew.” “Yes, and I can’t exactly explain; but I grasp the situation. You have had, what as a young man he never enjoyed--that is to say, a splendid time--and chiefly at his expense. He must feel just a little bit sore.” “No; old Dick is a rattling good sort, and I don’t agree with you, Leila. It’s not so much the money he grudges, but that he thinks I’ll never do any good. I’ve no ballast. I’ve got to sally out into the world, like the hero in a fairy tale, and prove myself!”