Her suggestion alarmed him. Ninian would be sure to chaff him about it.... "Oh, not yet!..." he began, but he was too late. Ninian had come up to them, grumbling, "I thought you two'd started to leg it to Rumpell's...."

Mary seized his arm and pressed it tightly. "Quinny and me are going to get married," she said.

"Silly a.s.ses," said Ninian. "Come on, here's the train in!"

4

They climbed into their carriage a few seconds before the train steamed out of the station again, and jammed themselves in the window to look out. Ninian was full of instructions to Widger about his terrier and his ferrets and a blind mouse that was supposed to recognise him with miraculous ease. There was also some point about the fox-hunt which required explanation....

"Good-bye, Mary!" Henry said, taking hold of her hand and pressing it.

"I suppose," he whispered, "I ought to give you a ring or something.

Chaps always do that!..."

Mary shook her head. "I don't think mother would like that," she replied.

"Well, anyhow, we're engaged, aren't we?"

"Oh, of course, Quinny!"

"It's most awf'lly nice of you to have me, Mary!"

"But I like you!"

"Do you really?"

The guard blew his whistle and waved his flag and the train began to move out of the station. He stood at the window looking back at Mary standing on the platform, waving her hands to him, until he could see her no longer.

"What are you looking at?" Ninian asked, taking down the basket of fish which Jim Rattenbury had given him and preparing to open it.

"I'm looking at Mary," he answered.

"Sloppy a.s.s!" said Ninian, and then he added excitedly, "Oh, I say, plaice and dabs and a lobster ... a whopping big lobster! It's berried, too!" He pointed to the red seeds in the lobster's body. "My Heavenly Father, Quinny!" he exclaimed, "what a tuck-in we'll have to-night!"

"Eh?" Henry replied vaguely.

THE FOURTH CHAPTER

1

Gilbert summoned Roger and Henry and Ninian to a solemn council. "Look here," he said, "I've made up my mind about myself!"

"Oh!" they exclaimed.

"Yes. I'm going to be a dramatist and write plays!"

"Why?" Ninian asked.

"I dunno! I went to see a play in the hols, and I thought I'd like to write one, too. It seems easy enough. You just make up a lot of talk, and then you get some actors to say it...."

"I see," said Ninian.

"And when I was a kid," Gilbert continued, "I used to make up plays for parties. Jolly good, they were ... at least I thought so!"

Gilbert, having settled what his own career was to be, was eager that his friends should settle what their careers were to be. "Roger, of course," he said, "has made up his mind to be a barrister, so that's him, but what about you, Ninian, and what about Quinny?"

Ninian said that he did not know what he should do. Mrs. Graham was anxious that he should become a member of parliament and lead the life of a country gentleman who takes an intelligent interest in his estate and his country. His Uncle George, the Dean of Exebury, oscillated between two opinions: one that Ninian should become a parson....

Gilbert suddenly proposed a resolution, sternly forbidding their young friend, Ninian Graham, to become a parson on any conditions whatever.

The resolution was seconded by Henry Quinn, and pa.s.sed unanimously.

... and the other that he should enter the Diplomatic Service. The Dean had talked largely to Ninian on the subject of his career. On the whole he had inclined towards the Diplomatic Service. He had stood in front of the fire, his hands thrust through the belt of his ap.r.o.n and talked magnificently of the glories of diplomacy. "How splendid it would be, Ninian," he said in that rich, flowing voice which caused ladies to admire his sermons so much, "if you were to become an amba.s.sador!"

Ninian, feeling that he ought to say something, had murmured that he supposed it would be rather jolly. "An amba.s.sador!" the Dean continued.

"His Britannic Majesty's Amba.s.sador to the Imperial Court of ... of Vienna!" He liked the sound of the t.i.tle so much that he repeated it: "His Britannic Majesty's Amba.s.sador!..."

But Ninian had interrupted him. "I don't think I'd like that job very much, Uncle George!" he said. "You're supposed to have an awful lot of tact if you're an amba.s.sador, and I'm rather an a.s.s at tact!"

"Well, then, the Church!" the Dean suggested. "After all, the Church is still the profession of a gentleman!..."

But Ninian had as little desire to be a priest as he had to be an amba.s.sador. He wished to be an engineer!

"A what?" the Dean had exclaimed in horror.

"An engineer, uncle!"

The Dean could not rid himself of the notion that Ninian was a small boy, and so he imagined that when Ninian said an "engineer" he meant a man who drives a railway engine.... The Dean was not insensible to the value of engineers to the community ... in fact, whenever he travelled by train, he invariably handed any newspapers he might have with him to the engine-driver at the end of the journey, "because," he said, "I wish to show my appreciation of the fact that without his care and skill I might--er--have been--well involved in a collision or something of the sort!" But, while the occupation of an engine-driver was a very admirable one ... very admirable one, indeed ... for a member of the working-cla.s.s, it could hardly be described as a suitable occupation for a gentleman. "I think," he said, "that engine-drivers get thirty-eight shillings per week, or some such amount!" He adjusted his gla.s.ses and beamed pleasantly at Ninian. "My dear boy," he said, "thirty-eight shillings per week is hardly ... hardly an adequate income for a Graham!"

Ninian did not like to ask his uncle George to "chuck it," nor did he care to tell him that he was making a frightful a.s.s of himself, and so he did not answer, and the beaming old gentleman felt that he had impressed the lad.... It was Mrs. Graham who reminded him of the larger functions of an engineer.

"I think," she said, "that Ninian wishes to build bridges and railways and ... and things like that!"

"Oh!" said the Dean, and his countenance altered swiftly. "Oh, yes, yes, yes! I was forgetting about bridges. Dear me, yes! I remember meeting Sir John Aird once. Remarkable man! Very remarkable man! He built the a.s.souan Dam, of course. Well, that would be a very nice occupation, Ninian. Rather different, of course, from the Diplomatic Service ... or the Church ... but still, very nice, _very_ nice! And profitable, I'm told!..."

2

"Anyhow," said Ninian, when he had related the story of his uncle's views, "I'm going to be an engineer, no matter what Uncle George says, and I'm not going to be a parson and I'm not going to be a blooming amba.s.sador, and I'm not going into parliament to make an a.s.s of myself!..."

Ninian's chief horror was of "making an a.s.s" of himself. It seemed that there was less likelihood of him doing this at engineering than at anything else.

"And a very good engineer you'll be," Gilbert said encouragingly.

"You're always messing about with the insides of things, and I can't see what good that habit would be to an amba.s.sador, or a parson, and anyhow you can't speak French for toffee, and that's the princ.i.p.al thing an amba.s.sador has to do! Well, Quinny," he continued, turning to Henry, "what about you?"

"I used to think I'd like to be a clergyman," Henry answered.