“My boy, I am thoroughly ashamed of you,” said his uncle, looking queerly at him. “You are most immature for married life, if you give way to your feelings so.” “But uncle, when a man is down so much, and turned out of doors by his own father----” “When a ‘man’! When a ‘boy’ is what you mean, I suppose. A man would take it differently.” “I am sure I take it very well,” said Hilary, trying to smile at it. “There, I will drink up my beer; for I know that sort of thing always vexes you. Now, can you say that I have kicked up a row, or done anything that I might have done?” “No, my boy, no; quite the opposite thing; you have taken it most angelically.” “Angelically, without an angelus, uncle, or even a stiver in my pocket! Only the cherub aloft, you know----” “I don’t know anything about him; and the allusion, to my mind, is profane.” “Now, uncle, you are hyperclerical, because I have caught you dressed as a bagman!” “I don’t understand your big Oxford words. In my days they taught theology.” “And hunting; come now, Uncle Struan, didn’t they teach you hunting?” “Well,” said the Rector, stroking his chin; “I was a poor young man, of course, and could not afford that sort of thing.” “Yes, but you did, you know, Uncle Struan; I have heard you boast of it fifty times.” “What a plague you are, Hilary! There may have been times--however, you are going on quite as if we were sitting and having a cozy talk after dinner at West Lorraine.” “I wish to goodness we were, my dear uncle. I never shall have such a pleasure again.” “My dear boy, my dear boy; to talk like that, at your time of life! What a thing love is, to be sure! However, in that state, a dinner is no matter.” “Well, I shall be off now for London again. A bit of bread and cheese, after all, is as good as anything. Good-bye, my dear uncle, I shall always thank you.” “You shall thank me for two things before you start. And you should not start, except that I know it to be at present best for you. You shall thank me for as good a dinner as can be got in a place like this; and after that for five gold guineas, just to go on for a bit with.” Thus the Rector had his way, and fed his nephew beautifully, and sent him back with a better heart in his breast, to meet the future. Hilary of course was much aggrieved, and inclined to be outrageous, at having walked four-and-twenty miles, with eager proceeding at every step, and then being balked of a sight of his love. However, he saw that it was for the best; and five guineas (feel as you will) are something. His good uncle paid his fare back by the stage, and saw him go off, and kissed hands to him; feeling greatly relieved as soon as ever he was round the corner; for he must have spoiled everything at the farm. Therefore this excellent uncle returned to his snug little sanded parlour, to smoke a fresh pipe; and to think, in its influence, how to get on with these new affairs.