“I’m not good at speaking,” he said; “but if you insist--well, it’s just this. Harry, you’re a brick to suggest that we should all live here, but I think you’re wrong about it. In the first place, we’re poor, and if you keep Morton open we shall be all tied here, and we sha’n’t be able to fill the house with people, and we shall not be able to keep up the shooting; and here we shall be with this great shell over our heads, like bluebottles or some other mean insect which lives in palaces. In the second place, you will probably marry, and that will cramp you still further. In the third--this is from my own point of view, purely--if I live here, I know perfectly well that, with the best intentions in the world, on wet mornings when I don’t want to go out, and on fine ones when I do, I shall persuade myself that I am far from well, and not go to Wroxton and the brewery. Fourthly, you yourself will miss not being in London horribly. You’d bore yourself to death here. But you’re a brick for suggesting it. And--and that’s all.” There was a moment’s silence. “So the sheep has spoken,” said Jeannie. “Well done, sheep. But I thought you said you were wholly indifferent?” “I know I did. But you drove me into a corner.” Miss Fortescue looked at Arthur approvingly. “For so stupid a boy, you have glimmerings of sense,” she said. “Oh, I’m a sharp fellow,” said Arthur. “Really, Arthur, I think you are,” said Harry. “Mind, my offer holds perfectly good, but I do think there is something in what you say.” Arthur stood looking from one to the other, with his head a little on one side, like a dog who has done its trick. Unlike Jeannie and his brother, he was fair, with blue eyes and an extraordinarily pleasant face. “Well, them’s my sentiments,” he said. “Your turn, Jeannie.” “I know it is,” said Jeannie. “And what’s to happen to me, Arthur?” she demanded. Arthur groaned slightly. “I’ve done all that can be expected of me,” he said. “My turn is over.” Jeannie jumped up. “Oh, I know,” she said. “I’ll come and keep house for you in Wroxton, Arthur, and Harry shall come down to stay with us from Saturday till Monday, and we’ll go up to stay with him from--from Monday till Saturday.” “A lot of beer shall I brew,” remarked Arthur. “Why, you could swim in it.” “I don’t much see you living at Wroxton, Jeannie,” said Harry. “Why not? I should enjoy it. I really should. And we’ll give high teas to the Canons.” “I think you’d loathe it before a month was out,” repeated Harry. “Indeed I shouldn’t.” “We’re all so terribly unselfish, and that’s what is the matter with us,” said Arthur. “First Harry wants to let us all live with him, and then I want to live in that funny little town in order to attend to my work, and then Jeannie wants to live with me. Aunt Em, give us a contribution, and try, oh, try to be selfish; I’m sure you can.”