"I reformed long ago," he said. "As soon as I saw you, I said I’d reform and I did. It was a great deal of trouble, but I did it. Oh, you’ve no idea how I suffered. But I said, ’Plantagenet, my boy, if you are to be worthy, you must buck up!’" This was encouraging. "I’m glad I’ve had so much influence," said Pen, who didn’t quite know what his reforms had been. "But there are other things. This is merely negative. What are you doing to be useful to the state? Are you loafing about on your money? Do you do any work? Are you educating yourself?" Goby gasped. "I say, come, Lady Penelope, I’ve done all that! Education! why, I had a horrid time at school and at a crammer’s—" "Do you read?" asked Pen, severely. "Why, of course," said Goby. "What?" Goby rubbed his cropped hair with two fingers. "Papers?" "Anything?" said Pen. "Well, I read the _Sportsman_ and the _Pink Un_ (at least, I did before I reformed) and the _Referee_," said Goby. "Books?" "Not many," said Goby. "But I will. What do you recommend?" "I think Tennyson and Shelley would do you good," said Pen, "but you had better ask Mr. de Vere. And do you do anything useful?" "De Vere! Oh, Lord!" cried Goby. "Anything useful? Why, I was in the army—" "And now you do nothing. Well," said Penelope, "I think you had better begin at once. Any man I know has to do something useful. You must go to the War Office and ask to be made something again. I think a colonelcy of a militia regiment would suit you. And I am going to ask Mr. de Vere to take an interest in your reading." "The devil!" said Goby. "I say, my dear Lady Penelope, I can’t stand him. Why, you may have seen we are barely civil to each other." "I shall speak to him firmly," said Penelope, "and it’s for his good, too. He leads an unhealthy indoor life. I want you to change all that. You row a great deal still, don’t you?" "Since I reformed I began again," said Goby. He felt the muscles of his right arm with complacency. "Take him out and make him row, then," said Pen, "and while he rows you can read poetry to him, and so on. It will be good for both of you." "But—" said Goby. "Yes?" "If I do this, will you marry me?" Penelope shook her head. "If you do it, I’ll think whether I’ll marry you." "Oh," said the soldier, "and if I just can’t hit it off with that poet?" "Then I won’t think about it," replied Pen. "I’ll never, never consider the possibility of marrying any one who isn’t leading a useful life, and educating himself, and living on less than a thousand a year. Can you do that, too?" "Dashed if I see how it can be done," said Plantagenet Goby. "But I’ll try, oh, yes, I’ll try." "Now you talk to Chloe," said Penelope, and she went away to the rescue of the poet. For Bob had got him in a corner. [Illustration: CAPTAIN PLANTAGENET GOBY, V.C., LATE OF THE GUARDS. Who was ordered to read poetry]