"He ought to behave to me like a gentleman." "But how is he, if he isn't a gentleman? He hasn't had the bringing up you've had. But he's a good, honest fellow, and says what he means." "That is just what I did, sir. And you have always told me that honesty is the best policy." "Yes, I confess. But that is not exactly the kind of honesty I mean," returned Mr. Worboise with a fishy smile, for his mouth was exactly of the fish type. "The law scarcely refers to the conduct of a gentleman as a gentleman." This was obscure to his son, as it may be to the reader. "Then you don't want me to behave like a gentleman?" said Tom. "Keep your diploma in your pocket till it's asked for," answered his father. "If you are constantly obtruding it on other people, they will say you bought it and paid for it. A gentleman can afford to put an affront in beside it, when he knows it's there. But the idea of good old Boxall insulting a son of mine is too absurd, Tom. You must remember you are his servant." "So he told me," said Tom, with reviving indignation. "And that, I suppose, is what you call an insult, eh?" "Well, to say the least, it is not a pleasant word to use." "Especially as it expresses a disagreeable fact. Come, come, my boy. Better men then you will ever be have had to sweep their master's office before now. But no reference is made to the fact after they call the office their own. You go and tell Mr. Boxall that you will be happy to dine with him to-night if he will allow you to change your mind." "But I told him I was engaged." "Tell him the engagement is put off, and you are at his service." "But--" began Tom, and stopped. He was going to say the engagement was not put off. "But what?" said his father. "I don't like to do it," answered Tom. "He will take it for giving in and wanting to make up." "Leave it to me, then, my boy," returned his father, kindly. "I will manage it. My business is not so very pressing but that I can go if I choose. I will write and say that a change in my plans has put it in my power to be his guest, after all, and that I have persuaded you to put off your engagement and come with me." "But that would be--would not be true," hesitated Tom. "Pooh! pooh! I'll take the responsibility of that. Besides, it _is_ true. Your mother will make a perfect spoon of you--with the help of good little Master Simon. Can't I change my plans if I like? We must _not_ offend Boxall. He is a man of mark--and warm. I say nothing about figures--I never tell secrets. I don't even say how many figures. But I know all about it, and venture to say, between father and son, that he is warm, decidedly warm--possibly hot," concluded Mr. Worboise, laughing. "I don't exactly understand you, sir," said Tom, meditatively. "You would understand me well enough if you had a mind to business," answered his father.