“But they were so unsuitable, father. All connected with trade.”
“Shame, Harry! As if there was anything undignified in trade. No matter whether it be trade or profession by which a man honestly earns his subsistence, it is an honourable career. And yet five times over you have been thrown back on my hands in disgrace.”
“Well, I can’t help it, father; I’ve done my best.”
“Your best!” cried Vine senior, taking up a glass rod, and stirring the water in another glass jar. “It is not true.”
“But it’s so absurd. You’re a rich man.”
“If I were ten times as well off, I would not have you waste your life in idleness. You are not twenty-four, and I am determined that you shall take some post. I have seen too much of what follows when a restless, idle young man sits down to wait for his father’s money. There, I am busy now. Go and think over what I have said. You must and shall do something. It is now a month since I received that letter. What is Mr Pradelle doing down here again?”
“Come for a change, as any other gentleman would.”
“Gentleman?”
“Well, he has a little income of his own, I suppose. If I’ve been unlucky that’s no reason why I should throw over my friends.”
The father looked at the son in a perplexed way, and then fed another sea-anemone, Harry looking on contemptuously.