"Don't allude to such matters, Sydney, my child," said the lady, sternly. "Can't help it," grumbled the boy, sourly, as if his breakfast had not agreed with him, consequent upon his making improper combinations of carbon, acid, and alkali--"it stings a bit. The fellows say uncle wouldn't have married you if it hadn't been for the dibs." "Sydney, my dear boy, you can afford to look down with contempt upon such evil, envious remarks. Your dear uncle fell deeply in Jove with me, and I with him, and we are extremely happy. The only trouble I have is to combat--er--er--certain little weaknesses of his, and yearnings for the--er--er--the--" "Turf, auntie. Yes, I know." "The racing and the gambling into which he had been led by dissolute companions. But enough of this, my dear. I find I am being unconsciously led into details of a very unsavoury nature. Your uncle is now completely weaned from his old pursuits, and happy as a model country gentleman." The "dear boy" winked solemnly at the bronze bust of a great Parliamentary leader on the chimney-piece, and the lady continued-- "In a few days he will address his constituents at the head of the poll as member for Deeploamshire." "What price Watcombe?" said the "dear boy," sharply. "I do not understand your metaphor, Sydney, my child," said the lady, coldly. "I mean, suppose Watcombe romps in at the race." "Race! Oh, my dear boy, pray do not use that word. If you mean suppose his adversary should be at the head, pray dismiss the thought. Your dear uncle must win and take his seat in the House. Some day I shall see his nephew, my dear child, following his example--the second baronet of our family. Think of this, Sydney, and learn to feel proud of descending from one of the manufacturing commercial princes of the Midlands, whose clever ingenuity resulted in the invention of a complicated instrument--" "Improved devil," said the "dear boy" to himself. "For tearing up old and waste woollen fragments into fibre and dust." "Devils dust," said Sydney, silently. "The former being worked up again into cloth--" "Shoddy," muttered Sydney. "And the latter utilised for fertilising the earth and making it return a hundredfold." "Gammon," said Syd. "The whole resulting in a colossal fortune." "Which the old hunks sticks to like wax," said Syd to himself. "And of which you ought to be very proud, my dear." "Oh, I am, auntie. But I say, how was it pa and ma went off to Australia?" "Pray do not revive old troubles, my dear. My brother never agreed with your grandfather. I grieve to say he was very wild, and given to horse-racing. Then he grievously offended your grandfather in the marriage he made clandestinely. Let it rest, my dear boy. Papa behaved very handsomely to John, and gave him ample funds to start a fresh career at the Antipodes, leaving you to my care--to be my own darling boy--to make you a true English gentleman; and I feel that I have done my duty by you."