"Thank you, Miss Frost. That is all I need."
Irene then went out, and whistling in a boyish fashion, presently brought Hughie to her side. He was quite at home with her now, and walked willingly along the gravel path listening as she spoke to him.
"Hughie, you know the promise I made to you?"
"Yes, I know," he said, his eyes dancing. "I am to be a gentleman. You said so."
"You are; but I must know all about it. Your sister pays fifty pounds a year to keep you at school."
"It's an awfully low sort of place," said the boy. "I mean the fellows there aren't gentlemen, and it is frightfully difficult to be a gentleman when no one else is."
"Well, it ought not to be. A gentleman ought to be a gentleman through everything," said Irene. "However, that is not the point. What profession would you like best if, supposing you were rich, you could have your choice?"
"I'd like best in all the world," said Hughie, "to be educated to become a lawyer—I mean a barrister. But there's no chance of that. I like arguing and disputing, and proving that other people are wrong, more than anything else in the world."
"You are not particularly amiable, Hughie," said Irene, with a laugh; "but I think I understand."
"Well, that is all right. Have you anything more to say?"