They did not understand each other; perceiving which, Sir Lionel gave up the subject. He was determined not to make himself disagreeable to his son. He, at any rate, intended to make him no allowance, to give him no fortune, and was aware, therefore, that he had no right to interfere otherwise than as his advice might be asked. Nor indeed had he any wish to do so, if he could only instil into the young man's mind a few--not precepts; precepts are harsh and disagreeable--a few comfortable friendly hints as to the tremendous importance of the game which might be played with Mr. George Bertram senior. If he could only do this pleasantly, and without offence to his son, he would attempt nothing further. He turned the conversation, and they talked agreeably on other matters--of Oxford, of the Wilkinsons, of Harcourt, and by degrees also a little of uncle George. "What sort of a house does my brother keep at Hadley--eh, George? Dull enough it used to be." "Well; it is dull. Not that he is dull himself; I can always talk to my uncle when he will talk to me." "Sees no company, I suppose?" "Not much." "Never goes into society?" "He dines out in London sometimes; and sometimes gives dinners too." "What! at taverns?" "Yes; at Blackwall, or Greenwich, or some of those places. I have been at his dinners, and he never spares anything." "He doesn't feel his years, then? He's not infirm? no rheumatism or anything of that sort--strong on his legs, eh?" "As strong as you are, sir." "He's ten years my senior, you know." "Yes, I know he is. He's not nearly so young a man as you are; but I really think he is as strong. He's a wonderful man for his years, certainly." "I'm delighted to hear it," said Sir Lionel. A keen judge of character, however, scrutinizing the colonel's face closely, would not then have read much warm delight therein depicted. "You rather like him on the whole, then--eh, George?" "Well; I really think I do. I am sure I ought to like him. But--" "Well, George; speak out. You and I need have no secrets." "Secrets, no; I've no secret. My uncle has a way of saying too much himself about what he does for one." "Sends in the bill too often--eh, George?" "If it is to be a bill, let him say so. I for one shall not blame him. There is no reason he should give me anything. But situated as I have been at Oxford, it would have been almost absurd in me to refuse his allowance--" "Quite absurd." "When he knew I was coming out to you, he made Pritchett--you know Pritchett?" "And his handwriting--very well indeed." "He made Pritchett put three hundred pounds to my credit; that was over and above my allowance. Well, I did almost make up my mind to return that; as it is, I have not touched it, and I think I shall repay it." "For heaven's sake do no such thing. It would be an offence which he would never forgive." Sir Lionel did say so much with something of parental energy in his tone and manner. "Yes, sir; but to be told of it!"