A Drake by George! - The Original Classic Edition. Trevena John

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       "Second-hand furniture goes for next to nothing," replied Mrs. Drake.

       "That depends," said Percy. Then he pointed to the mantelpiece and continued, "If I were you, Aunt, I should wrap those two Chinese vases in cotton-wool, and put them away."

       "Are they really valuable? My dear husband thought they were, but I'm afraid he didn't know much about such things, and he would exaggerate sometimes. He used to say they were worth a hundred pounds apiece."

       "He was under the mark," said Percy. "I'm not an expert, but I know more about Chinese vases than I do about tomatoes, as a friend of mine deals in the things, and I've picked up a lot from him. I believe those vases are worth a heap of money."

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       "Well, that is a surprise!" cried Mrs. Drake. "I shall take your advice and pack them away. Don't mention it to George." "Certainly not," said Percy, somewhat indignantly.

       "And now what can you suggest?" Mrs. Drake continued, waddling to the mantelpiece and flicking a disreputable blowfly from one of the vases. "I have told George plainly a hundred times he must do something for a living, but he won't take a hint. I suppose you wouldn't care to give him employment? He ought to know something about fruit, as he spends half his time leaning against an apple tree."

       "He wouldn't work under me. Besides, I'm doing a losing business as it is. It's a jolly difficult problem, Aunt."

       "Will you open his eyes to his folly and wickedness? If you can't make him ashamed, you may be able to frighten him. Tell him, if he

       works, I will help him; but, if he won't work, I'll do nothing more for him."

       "All right, Aunt. I'll shift the beggar," said Percy cheerfully; and he went out to search for his victim.

       George was reclining upon a seat which his uncle had dedicated to the public for ever, to commemorate the return of the Drakes

       to Highfield. When he saw the enemy approaching he closed his eyes; for his cunning nature suggested that Percy would respect his slumbers unless he came as a special messenger. When the footsteps ceased, and the ferrule of a stick was pressed gently against his ribs, George realised that a certain amount of trouble awaited him.

       "I was sound asleep. It's a tiring day, and I've been a long walk," he explained amiably. "Sit down, old chap, and look at the view; but

       if you want to admire the sunset, I should advise you to go higher up."

       "I don't want to admire the sunset," replied Percy. "I've been having a talk with Aunt Maria----"

       "And I've been to Black Anchor," broke in George. "I don't suppose you've read my uncle's history of the parish. It's a classic, and there are nine hundred copies at home. People called Slack were living there when we came; a regular bad lot and a disgrace to the village."

       "Friends of yours?" asked Percy.

       "Not likely! They were no better than savages. The man hobbled off one day and has never been seen since, and the woman was sent to prison for stealing, and the children were taken into a Home. The farm has been without a tenant for the last two years, and now an old man named Brock has taken it."

       "Perhaps he would give you a job," suggested Percy.

       "That's a good idea. I'm sorry I forgot to ask him when I went over this afternoon," said the amiable George, perfectly well aware in which direction the wind was blowing. "Unluckily the old chap hasn't any money. He cooks the grub while his grandson drains the bogs. Everybody's talking about it; they can't get over the idea of two men running a farm without a woman. Sidney, the young chap, wants to go into the Navy, but he sacrifices his future to help his grandfather. Funny idea that! Now if my uncle had been alive he would have got young Brock on a training ship, I warrant."

       "Funny idea he should want to do some good for his grandfather?"

       "No; but it's queer that a chap who wants to go into the Navy should come to Black Anchor with all its associations of us Drakes,"

       said George loftily. Then he added, "I'm rested now, so I'll take a stroll."

       "Just as you like. We'll sit here and talk, or we'll stroll and talk," said the pestilential Percy. "Go on then," said George sourly.

       So Percy in his capacity of ambassador delivered the ultimatum: Aunt Maria had borne with her husband's nephew for a great num-ber of years, postponing vigorous action out of a mistaken kindness, but she was now firmly resolved upon the act of expulsion. "It's for your sake entirely," he continued. "Naturally Aunt wants to see you settled in some business, as she knows she can't leave you anything."

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       "Except the furniture," remarked George indifferently.

       "That's not exactly a fortune," replied Percy, wondering how much his cousin knew about Chinese vases. "My uncle promised I should have the furniture," said the monotonous George.

       "Every man should work," observed Percy virtuously. "I could manage tomatoes," retorted George.

       "I shall be a rich man when the aunts die, while you will have nothing. I don't require to build up a business. Don't you want a home of your own, wife and children, and all that sort of thing?"

       "No," said George.

       "What do you want then?"

       "Board and lodging, and some one to look after me," replied the candid cousin.

       "Aunt Maria has said her last word. She won't keep you in idleness any longer. And I'm going to stay here until you leave the place." "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.

       "I don't want to offend her, and of course I couldn't abuse her kindness," said George slowly; "but just suppose I did refuse to leave

       home--suppose I insisted upon staying here and leading the sort of life that suits my health--what could she do?"

       "If you were rotten enough for that, I suppose she could appeal to the magistrates for an ejectment order," replied Percy hazily. "She is much too kind for that. Besides, I am her nephew."

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