"They never brought me up to do anything," argued George for the defence.
"They did their best, but you wouldn't work."
"They ought to have made me. I was young then, and it was their duty to make me submit to discipline. Now I'm middle-aged."
"Thirty-eight is still young."
"With some men; not with me. My habits are formed."
"When you find something to do—"
"That's just what Aunt Maria says," George interrupted bitterly. "She never suggested anything but once, and then she said I might have gone abroad as a missionary if I hadn't been unfit for the job. It's all very well to talk about doing something in this beastly overcrowded world, but what can a middle-aged bachelor do except put his trust in Providence? My uncle was at least practical: he did suggest I should turn pilot or harbour-master, although he knew the very sight of the sea puts my liver out of order."
"You might open a shop to sell fruit and flowers; and I'll supply you."
"I don't understand buying and selling, and I can't do accounts. You would take the profit, and I should have the losses."
"You must make up your mind. Aunt is perfectly serious," declared Percy.