"Perhaps she'll wait for me," mused Hughie.
"How old is she?"
"Twenty-one, like me."
"H'm," remarked Jimmy Marrable drily. "That means that she is for all practical purposes ten years your senior. However, perhaps she will. Pigs might fly. But will you promise me to think the matter over very carefully before deciding not to go abroad?"
"Yes," said Hughie.
"That being the case," continued his uncle briskly, "I want to tell you one or two things. If you do go, I may never see you again."
"I say," said Hughie in alarm, "there's nothing wrong with your health, is there, old man?"
"Bless you, no! But once a Marrable takes to the wilds Methuselah himself couldn't reckon on living long enough to see him again. So I am going to talk to you while I've got you. I am taking this opportunity of being near town to see my solicitor and make my will. I am fit enough, but I am fifty this year; and at that age a man ought to make some disposition of his property. I may as well tell you that I have left you nothing. Annoyed?"
"Not in the least."
"And I have left nothing to Master Lance."