"Well, why not?" placidly. "It's better than being nothing but a gambler--like poor Dick. Tony always did love making plans. Don't you remember, when he was about eight, he made a drawing of heaven, with seating accommodation for the angels--cherubim and seraphim, and so on--in tiers? The general effect was rather like a plan of the Albert Hall"--smiling reminiscently. "Seriously, though, Philip, if the boy wants _work_, in the name of common sense, let him have it." "There's plenty of work for him at Lorne"--stubbornly. "Let him learn to manage the property. That's what I want--and what I'll have. God bless my soul! What have I brought the boy up for? To be a comfort in my old age, of course, and a credit to the name. Architect be hanged!" As he spoke there came the sound of footsteps in the hall outside--light, buoyant steps--and Lady Susan's face brightened. "That will be Ann," she said. Adding quickly, as though to conclude the subject they had been discussing: "I warn you, Philip, you're driving the boy on too tight a rein." Sir Philip greeted Ann good-humouredly. In spite of the fact that she showed no disposition to fall in with his wishes and marry Tony, he was extremely fond of her. She was one of the few people who had never been afraid of him. She even contradicted him flatly at times, and, like most autocrats, he found her attitude a refreshing change from that of the majority of people with whom he came in contact. "Seen Tony in the town?" he demanded. It was evident the boy was hardly ever out of his thoughts. "Yes. We've just been having tea together." Sir Philip nodded approvingly. "Excellent, excellent. Keep him out of mischief, like a good girl." Ann laughed, a shade scornfully, but vouchsafed no answer, and soon afterwards Sir Philip took his departure. "The twelve-thirty steamer to-morrow, then, Susan," he said as he shook hands. "I'll call for you in the car on my way to the _débarcadère_." When he had gone Lady Susan and Ann exchanged glances. "I've been telling him he drives Tony on too tight a rein," said the former, answering the unspoken question in the girl's eyes. "It's absurd of him," declared Ann indignantly. "He tries to keep him tied to his apron-strings as if he were a child. And he's not! He's a man. He's been through that beastly war. Probably he knows heaps more about life--the real things of life--than Sir Philip himself, who wants to dictate everything he may or may not do." "Probably he does. And that's just the trouble. When you get a terribly experienced younger generation and a hide-bound older one there are liable to be fireworks." "All I can say is that if Sir Philip won't let him have a little more freedom, he'll drive Tony just the way he doesn't want him to go." Lady Susan's keen glance scrutinised the girl's troubled face. "You can't help it, you know," she remarked briefly.