"Help yourself," said Henry, adding, as Mr. Paragon portioned out his whisky, "How's sister?" "Up to the mark every time." "She's all right. There's not a more healthy woman in England than sister." Henry paused a little in reflection upon the virtues of Mrs. Paragon. He then continued. "How's the boy?" "I'll tell you what," said Mr. Paragon, "he's growing up." "Fifteen next December." "Old for his age," said Mr. Paragon, nodding between the lines. Uncle Henry thoughtfully compressed his lips. "Well," he said, "I suppose the boy will have to find out what he's made of." "He's very thick next door," suggested Mr. Paragon with a meaning eye. "I've noticed her, George. She'll soon be finding out a thing or two for herself." "There's a handsome woman there," said Mr. Paragon. "Well enough." They paused again in contemplation of possibilities in Miranda. "I've had a letter," said Mr. Paragon at last. The headmaster's sheet was handed over, and carefully deciphered. "Writes a shocking hand," said Uncle Henry. "That's education. Peter's hand," he added contentedly, "is worse. I can't make head or tail of what Peter writes." Henry mixed himself another whisky. "They seem to think a great lot of him," he said thoughtfully. "That about the Scholarships, for instance. They say he'll get the £30. Then he goes to the High School and gets £50, and £80 at the University. Think of that, George." "I don't hold with it," Mr. Paragon broke out. "Education," Henry began. "Education yourself," interrupted Mr. Paragon. "What's the good of all that second-hand stuff?" "It helps." "Yes. It helps to make a nob of my son. It's little he'll learn at the University except to take off his hat to people no better than himself." "Can't you trust him?" "Peter's all right," Mr. Paragon jealously admitted. "There's no harm in a bit of Greek. You talk as if it was going to turn him straight off into a bishop." Uncle Henry paused, and, desiring to make a point, took the hearthrug. "I can't understand you," he continued, with legs well apart. "If Peter is going to have my money, he's got to learn how to spend it. Look at myself. I have had sense to make a bit of money, but I've got no more idea of spending it than a baby. I want Peter to learn." "That's all right," said Mr. Paragon. "But what's going to happen to Peter when he gets into the hands of a lot of doctors?" "Peter must take his chance." "It's well for you to talk. You're as blue as they're made, and a churchwarden of the parish." Uncle Henry solemnly put down his glass. "George," he said, "it does not matter to a mortal fool what I am, nor what you are. Peter's got to find things out for himself. He'll get past you and me; and, whether he comes out your side or mine, he'll have more in his head."