‘There’s no question of friendship, ye gowk; he’s your relation, and the head of your house. It’s your duty to pay him your respects occasionally.’
‘Paying my respects wouldn’t be of much use,’ retorted Alec. ‘You’re shirking the question. Is it honourable to—I don’t know the right word—to try to ingratiate yourself with anyone in the hope of getting something out of him?’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s not honourable; and I would not respect myself if I were to do such a thing,’ said Alec, with much dignity.
Cameron laughed inwardly, but he made no response, and there was silence for a few minutes between the two friends. The older man was thinking how absurd the boy was, and how a little experience of life would rub off his ‘high-fantastical’ notions. Then he wished that he had a grand-uncle who was a millionnaire. And then he fell to wondering whether, on the whole, it was best to despise wealth, as Alec Lindsay did, or to acquire it.
‘I suppose it is too late now to take another class?’ said Alec, half absently.
‘I should think so,’ responded his friend. ‘What class did you think of taking? Mathematics?’
‘No; History.’
‘History! That isn’t wanted for a degree. What put that into your head?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. I only thought of it.’