It was at luncheon, to which I came in late. Uncle Thomas was in bed with gout, and Uncle Tom did not consider me of enough consequence to matter. He had not realised even _now_ that I was a grown-up woman. Looking back after all these years, I am not sure that he was not astute enough to hope that I might prove an ally. "What you have got to do, Emmy, is to think of the future," he was saying, scooping all the visible eggs out of an aspic pie. "It's no manner of use living only in the present. You think this comfortable home will go on for ever, where you have lived in luxury. It won't. It can't. It's not in the nature of things. I saw Blackett yesterday (Blackett was the doctor), and he told me that if the governor's gout rises--and nothing he can do can keep it down--he won't last more than a year at longest. In the nature of things," Uncle Tom continued, bolting half an egg, "I shall then marry. In fact--in short----" "Has Miss Collett accepted you?" said Aunt Emmy tremulously. Miss Collett was a person of means, and of somewhat bulged attractions for those who admire size, of whom Uncle Tom had often spoken as a deuced fine woman. "She has," said Uncle Tom. "I made pretty sure of that before I said anything myself. Nothing immediate, you understand; but eventually--when the old governor goes--I don't want to hurry him, Lord knows; but when the old man does pop off, I shall--bring her here." I looked round the room. I had seen Miss Collett, and the mahogany and ormolu dining-room, with its great gilt mirrors, seemed a fitting background for her. "I am very glad, dear Tom," said Aunt Emmy. "I think you and she will be very well suited, and I am sure she is very lucky, though I suppose I should never think any one _quite_ good enough." "Oh! that's all right," said Uncle Tom. "And as for the luck, it's all on my side." He did not really think this, I knew, but it was the right thing to say, so he said it. "But I am not thinking only of myself," he continued. "There is you to be considered." Aunt Emmy dropped her eyes. "You mean, where I shall live," she said faintly. "Just so. Just so. You speak like a sensible woman. We must not forget you." Uncle Tom was becoming visibly uneasy. "And I may as well tell you now, old girl--prepare your mind beforehand, don't you know--that the governor has not been able to leave you as much as he wished, as we _both_ wished. The truth is, what with one thing and another, and nearly all his capital tied up in the business, and this house on a long lease and expensive to keep up, with the best will in the world the poor old pater _can't_ do much for you." "It will be enough," said Aunt Emmy. "It will be the interest of seven thousand pounds at three and a half per cent.," said Uncle Tom brutally, because he was uncomfortable, "about two hundred and thirty pounds a year."