Mr Vane laughed at that, and reflected with pride that not a man in the room could boast such a taking little witch for his daughter. Then he grew grave, and returned to the subject in hand.
“In what way do you propose that I shall give the boy a chance?”
“Continue his allowance for a year, and let him give himself up to his work! If at the end of the year he has made no headway, it should be an understanding that he joins you in business without any more fuss; but if he has received real encouragement,—if even one or two editors have accepted his verses, and think well of them—”
“Yes? What then?”
“Then you must consider that Ron has proved his point! It is really a stiff test, for it takes mediocre people far longer than a year to make a footing on the literary ladder. You would then have to continue his allowance, and try to be thankful that you are the father of a poet, instead of a clerk!”
Mr Vane growled again, and, what was worse, sighed into the bargain, a sigh of real heartache and disappointment.
“I have looked forward for twenty years to the time when my son should be old enough to help me! I have slaved all my life to keep a place for him, and now he despises me for my pains! And you will want to be off with him, I suppose, rambling about the country while he writes his rhymes. I shall have to say good-bye to the pair of you! It doesn’t matter how dull or lonely the poor old father may be.”
Margot looked at him with a reproving eye.
“That’s not true, and you know it isn’t! I love you best of any one on earth, and I am only talking to you for your own good. I’d like to stay in the country with Ronald in summer, for he does so hate the town, but I’ll strike a bargain with you, too! Last year I spent three months in visiting friends. This year I’ll refuse all invitations, so that you shan’t be deprived of any more of my valuable society.”
“And why should you give up your pleasures, pray? Why are you so precious anxious to be with the boy? Are you going to aid and abet him in his efforts?”