GERALD. He never ought to have gone into business at all. Why couldn't you have had him taught farming or estate agency or something?
SIR JAMES. We've got to move with the times, my boy. Land is played out as a living for gentlemen; they go into business nowadays. If he can't get on there, it's his own fault. He went to Eton and Oxford; what more does he want?
LADY FARRINGDON (to GERALD). You must remember he isn't clever like you, Gerald.
GERALD. Oh, well, it's no good talking about it now. Poor old Bob! Wentworth thinks—
SIR JAMES. Ah, now why couldn't Wentworth have defended him? That other man—why, to begin with, I don't even call him a gentleman.
GERALD. Wentworth recommended him. But I wish he had gone to Wentworth before, as soon as he knew what was coming.
SIR JAMES. Why didn't he come to me? Why didn't he come to any of us? Then we might have done something.
LADY FARRINGDON. Didn't he even tell you, Gerald?
GERALD (awkwardly). Only just at the last. It was—it was too late to do anything then. It was the Saturday before he was—arrested. (To himself) "The Saturday before Bob was arrested"—what a way to remember anything by!
LADY FARRINGDON (to GERALD). Bob is coming round, dear?