'A return with thanks,' put in Cuthbert, who was not without some enjoyment of Mark's discomfiture; he had long had a certain contempt for his elder brother as a much overrated man, and he felt, with perfect justice, that had Fortune made him his uncle's favourite, he had brains which would have enabled him to succeed where Mark had failed; but he had been obliged to leave school early for a City office, which had gone some way towards souring him. 'There's an old Latin proverb,' said Mr. Ashburn, with a feeling that it was his turn--'an old Latin proverb, "_Nec suetonius ultra crepitam_."' 'No, excuse me, you 'aven't _quite_ got it, Matthew,' said his brother-in-law, patronisingly; 'you're very near it, though. It runs, if I don't make a mistake, "Ne plus ultra sutorius (not _suetonius_--_he_ was a Roman emperor)--crepitam," a favourite remark of the poet Cicero--"Cobbler stick to your last," as _we_ have it more neatly. But your father's right on the main point, Mark. I don't say you need stick to the schoolmastering, unless you choose. I'll see you started at the Bar; I came this very evening to 'ave a talk with you on that. But what do you want to go and lower yourself by literature for? There's a littery man down at our place, a poor feller that writes for the "Chigbourne and Lamford Gazette," and gets my gardener to let him take the measure of my gooseberries; he's got a hat on him my scarecrow wouldn't be seen in. That's what you'll come to!' 'There's some difference,' said Mark, getting roused, 'between the reporter of a country paper and a novelist.' 'There's a difference between you and him,' retorted his uncle; 'he gets what he writes put in and paid so much a line for--_you_ don't. That's all the difference _I_ can see.' 'But when the books are accepted, they will be paid for,' said Mark, 'and well paid for too.' 'I always thought that dog and the shadow must ha' been a puppy, and now I know it,' said his uncle, irritably. 'Now look here, Mark, let's have no more nonsense about it. I said I came here to have a little talk with you, and though things are not what I expected, 'ave it I will. When I saw you last, I thought you were trying to raise yourself by your own efforts and studying law, and I said to myself, "I'll give him another chance." It seems now that was all talk; but I'll give you the chance for all that. If you like to take it, well and good; if not, I've done with you this time once for all. You go on and work 'ard at this Law till you've served your time out, or kept your terms, or whatever they call it, and when you get called you can give 'em notice to quit at your school. _I'll_ pay your fees and see you started in chambers till you're able to run alone. Only, and mind this, no more of your scribbling--drop that littery rubbish once for all, and I stand by you; go on at it, and I leave you to go to the dogs your own way. That's my offer, and I mean it.'