“Yes. I admit that it will be hideously dull, and I can absolutely guarantee you against any sensational experiences. It is just a sleepy little country place, with few big people in the neighbourhood: no racing, shockingly bad hunting--not that this will affect _you_--but it will be an ideal spot for putting in the time. You will never see a soul you know; I’ll keep you well supplied with books, papers, and news, and steal down to see you now and then, ‘under the rose.’” “Don’t, don’t!” he protested, with a laugh, “think of my spotless character.” “Yes; but I shall come all the same! The place is notoriously healthy, I dare say you may get some good fishing, you will hardly have anything to do--they won’t go out much--of course you’ll pay a boy to clean the car, and I’ve no doubt that the old ladies will take an enormous fancy to you and leave you a fortune, and you will be just as happy as the day is long.” “Oh, all right. Then, in that case, my dear Sis, since you say there is a chance of a great fortune and good fishing, you may book me for the situation by the next post.” CHAPTER V PLANS AND THREATS When the choice of Owen’s future employment was duly imparted to his uncle and brother-in-law, the latter received it with approval, the former with a series of alarming explosions. “His nephew--his heir--a common chauffeur! Outrageous! Why not enlist, and be the King’s servant, if livery he _must_ wear?” Then, in a tone of angry sarcasm, “I see--I see his reason. The fellow will be gadding round, making believe to himself it’s his own machine; to many young asses, driving a car is an extraordinary pleasure. Yes, that’s why he hit on it!” and he slapped his leg with a gesture of triumph. “You are wrong, Uncle Richard, it was _I_ who hit on it,” protested the culprit. “Owen never had an idea of being a chauffeur till I suggested it.” “That’s likely enough; his ideas are few and far between. Well, now look here, Leila, I forbid him to adopt your plan.” “But, my dear uncle, have you not washed your hands of him for the next two years?” she demanded, with raised brows. “Do you really think you are consistent?” “But a greasy chauffeur, got up in black leather, like a boot----” “The pay is not bad, it’s a job he can manage, and, after all, you will allow that Owen must live; or are you going to say, ‘_Je n’en vois pas la necessité_’?” “Umph! I wonder, Leila, where you got that tongue of yours?” “And,” dismissing the question with an airy gesture, “I know of a nice quiet place in a country village, with two darling old maiden ladies, where he will be, so to speak, out at grass, with his shoes off!”