Miss Wilson's eyes shot laughter at her fiancé. "Go on, Bobbie, and don't make it too long!"
"I decline to be hustled." Bobbie's tone was firm, though urbane. "I repeat: I went to my uncle. And I said to him, like the unemployed: 'Find me work, and none of your d----d charity!'"
"Which means, I suppose, that the last time you went to him, you borrowed fifty pounds?" said Sir James.
"I shouldn't dream, sir, of betraying my uncle's affairs. On this occasion--for an uncle--he behaved well. He lectured me for twenty-seven minutes and a half--I had made up my mind beforehand not to let it go over the half-hour--and then he came to business. After a year's training and probation in Berlin he thought he could get me a post in his brother-in-law's place in the City. Awfully warm thing, you know," said Bobbie, complacently; "worth a little trouble. So I told him, kindly, I'd think of it. Ecco!" He pointed to the letter. "Of course, I told my uncle I should permit him to continue my allowance, and in a year I shall be a merchant prince--in the egg; I shall be worth marrying; and I shall allow Ettie two hundred a year for her clothes."
"And Lady Niton?"
Bobbie sat down abruptly; the girl stared at the carpet.
"I don't see the point of your remark," said Bobbie at last, with mildness. "When last I had the honor of hearing of her, Lady Niton was taking the air--or the waters--at Strathpeffer."
"As far as I know," remarked Sir James, "she is staying with the Feltons, five miles off, at this moment."
Bobbie whistled. "Close quarters!" He looked at Miss Ettie Wilson, and she at him. "May I ask whether, as soon as Ettie and I invited ourselves for the day, you asked Lady Niton to come to tea?"
"Not at all. I never play Providence unless I'm told to do so. Only Miss Mallory is coming to tea."