"Perhaps so, my dear boy; but the man has had no chance, and--No; sit still, Charley. I haven't done yet; I want to talk to you." "All right, dad. I was only going to give the mare a spin. Let her wait." And he threw himself back in his chair. "Yes, yes--let her wait this morning, my dear boy. But don't say `All right!' I don't like you to grow slangy, either in your speech or dress." He glanced at the young man's easy tweed suit. "That was one thing in which the old school excelled, in spite of their wine-bibbing propensities--they were particular in their language, dressed well, and were courtly to the other sex." "Yes," yawned Charley; "but they were dreadful prigs." "Perhaps so--perhaps so, my dear boy," said the old gentleman, laying his hand upon his son's knee. "But do you know, Charley, I should like to see you a little more courtly and attentive to--to the ladies?" "I adore that mare you gave me, dad." "Don't be absurd. I want to see you more in ladies' society; so polishing--so improving!" "Hate it!" said Charley laconically. "Nonsense--nonsense! Now look here!" "No, dad. Look here," said Charley, leaning towards his father and gazing full in his face with a half-serious, half-bantering smile lighting up his clear blue eye. "You're beating about the bush, dad, and the bird won't start. You did not send for me to say that Martingale had been about a horse, or Leathrum had hatched so many pheasants, or that Diggles was going to leave the country. Frankly, now, governor, what's in the wind?" Sir Philip Vining looked puzzled; he threw himself back in his chair, took snuff hastily, spilling a few grains upon his cambric shirt-frill. Then, with his gold-box in his left hand, he bent forward and laid his right upon the young man's ample breast, gazing lovingly in his face, and said: "Frankly, then, my dear Charley, I want to see you married!" Volume 1, Chapter IV. CONCERNING MATRIMONY. Charles Vining gazed half laughingly in his father's earnest face; then throwing himself back, he burst into an uncontrolled fit of merriment. "Ha, ha, ha! Me married! Why, my dear father, what next?" Then, seeing the look of pain in Sir Philip's countenance, he rose and stood by his side, resting one hand upon his shoulder. "Why, my dear father," he said, "what ever put that in your head? I never even thought of such a thing!" "My dear boy, I know it--I know it; and that's why I speak. You see, you are now just twenty-seven, and a fine handsome young fellow--" Charley made a grimace. "While I am getting an old man, Charley, and the time cannot be so very far off before I must go to my sleep. You are my only child, and I want the Squire of Blandfield to keep up the dignity of the old family. Don't interrupt me, my boy, I have not done yet. I must soon go the way of all flesh--" "Heaven forbid!" said Charley fervently.