“A lot of beer shall I brew,” remarked Arthur. “Why, you could swim in it.”
“I don’t much see you living at Wroxton, Jeannie,” said Harry.
“Why not? I should enjoy it. I really should. And we’ll give high teas to the Canons.”
“I think you’d loathe it before a month was out,” repeated Harry.
“Indeed I shouldn’t.”
“We’re all so terribly unselfish, and that’s what is the matter with us,” said Arthur. “First Harry wants to let us all live with him, and then I want to live in that funny little town in order to attend to my work, and then Jeannie wants to live with me. Aunt Em, give us a contribution, and try, oh, try to be selfish; I’m sure you can.”
“Well, I think Jeannie is right,” said Miss Fortescue. “You would hate not living in London, Harry, and I think the best thing you can do is to have a flat there, quite small, so that one or two of us could very kindly come to stay with you, and let Jeannie and Arthur live in Wroxton. Then shut Morton up, or let it. You’d better let it, if possible. It’s only for a year or two, till you’ve paid these iniquitous Radical taxes. And then when you open it again you can order your beer from Arthur.”
Arthur gave a sigh of relief.
“Well, that’s settled,” he said. “Jeannie, let’s go into Wroxton this afternoon and see the householders or the house-agents. Oh, Aunt Em, what is going to happen to you?”
“You are all so unselfish,” said Miss Fortescue, “that I thought one of you might have considered that. But I was wrong.”