"Well then, about my plans. I suppose I ought to stay at home at Farleigh—I shall look out for a decent flat in London—and get to know my children. Somehow it's that I can't take to. They have grown up so outside all my thoughts and schemes and interests. They don't care a hang about Africa. John has been making a young fool of himself at Sandhurst ... been betting and borrowing and getting into debt. I'm glad his mother didn't know.... Well, I shall square up all that, but I shall insist on his going in for the Indian Army—Staff Corps—same as I did.... A man if he's got ability couldn't have a better education.... He's a good-looking boy, John—I expect he thinks me an old fogey from the backwoods.... India's the school for him. And as to Ambrose, he must go to Cambridge, when he leaves Harrow, and I shall try and get him a nomination for the Consular Service.... That's the other good school for a British citizen. You'll think me jolly conceited, just because those are the two careers I've followed. But..." (smokes and puffs).
"Well then, there are the two girls. Fat Maud—she was furious because I revived the old name—says long ago 'Aunt Sibyl' agreed it should be compromised by her being called Fatima.... Fatima, I gather, is eighteen, and young Sibyl is fourteen.... For the present Maud will look after them, and I shall have 'em up to London every now and then for a few weeks. In course of time I suppose they'll want to be presented. Dare say old Sibyl will do that, or if she's away, Lady Dewburn. By the bye, she wrote me an awfully sweet letter about Lucy..." (ponders and smokes).
"In due time the girls'll marry, and if they pick up the right kind of husband I shall give 'em each a portion of my ill-gotten wealth. There! That's what I've planned out, and I dare say it 'ud ha' been quite different if my darling Luce had lived. I should have been reconciled then to settling down at home. As it is—I shall travel a bit—Go to Germany and try to find out what the Germans are up to.... Go back to Africa p'raps ... I don't know...."
A few days after this conversation, Roger received a letter from Sibyl:
Villa les Pins,
Grimaud, près St. Tropez,
Var,
June 12, 1909.
DEAR ROGER,—
Maurice will have given you all the news there is about me, except what I am going to add in this letter.