The Ballawhaine coughed, scratched with his nail on his cheek, and said, “You wish me to put him with a barrister in chambers, is that it?” With a nervous smile and a little laugh of relief Auntie Nan signified assent. “You are aware that a step like that costs money. How much have you got to spend on it?” “I'm afraid, Peter----” “You thought I might find the expenses, eh?” “It's so good of you to see it in the right way, Peter.” The Ballawhaine made a wry face. “Listen,” he said dryly. “Ross has just gone to study for the English bar.” “Yes,” said Auntie Nan eagerly, “and it was partly that----” “Indeed!” said the Ballawhaine, raising his eyebrows. “I calculate that his course in London will cost me, one thing with another, more than a thousand pounds.” Auntie Nan lifted her gloved hands in amazement. “That sum I am prepared to spend in order that my son, as an English barrister, may have a better chance----” “Do you know, we were thinking of that ourselves, Peter?” said Auntie Nan. “A better chance,” the Ballawhaine continued, “of the few places open in the island than if he were brought up at the Manx bar only, which would cost me less than half as much.” “Oh! but the money will come back to you, both for Ross and Philip,” said Auntie Nan. The Ballawhaine coughed impatiently. “You don't read me,” he said irritably. “These places are few, and Manx advocates are as thick as flies in a glue-pot. For every office there must be fifty applicants, but training counts for something, and influence for something, and family for something.” Auntie Nan began to be penetrated as by a chill. “These,” said the Ballawhaine, “I bring to bear for Ross, that he may distance all competitors. Do you read me now?” “Read you, Peter?” said Auntie Nan. The Ballawhaine fixed his hollow eye upon her, and said, “What do you ask me to do? You come here and ask me to provide, prepare, and equip a rival to my own son.” Auntie Nan had grasped his meaning at last. “But gracious me, Peter,” she said, “Philip is your own nephew, your own brother's son.” The Ballawhaine rubbed the side of his nose with his lean forefinger, and said, “Near is my shirt, but nearer is my skin.” Auntie Nan fixed her timid eyes upon him, and they grew brave in their gathering indignation. “His father is dead, and he is poor and friendless,” she said. “We've had differences on that subject before, mistress,” he answered. “And yet you begrudge him the little that would start him in life.” “My own has earlier claim, ma'am.” “Saving your presence, sir, let me tell you that every penny of the money you are spending on Ross would have been Philip's this day if things had gone different.” The Ballawhaine bit his lip. “Must I, for my sins, be compelled to put an end to this interview?” He rose to go to the door. Philip rose also. “Do you mean it?” said Auntie Nan. “Would you dare to turn me out of the house?” “Come, Auntie, what's the use?” said Philip.