Lucy had no occasion now for the advice which Jock at eight years old had so freely given her. She had her husband to lead and advise her. But in this one matter Sir Tom was put tacitly out of court, and Jock had his old place. "It does not matter at all that you have not done anything lately," Jock said; "there is plenty of time--and now that I am to spend all my holidays here, it will be far easier. It was better not to do things so hastily as you began."
"But, Jock," said Lucy, "We must not deceive ourselves; it will be very hard. People who are very nice do not like to take the money; and those who are willing to take it----"
"Does the will say the people are to be nice?" asked Jock. "Then what does that matter? The will is all against reason, Lucy. It is wrong, you know. Fellows who know political economy would think we are all mad; for it just goes against it, straight."
"That is strange, Jock; for papa was very economical. He never could bear waste: he used to say----"
"Yes, yes; but political economy means something different. It is a science. It means that you should sell everything as dear as you can, and buy it as cheap as you can--and never give anything away----"
"That is dreadful, Jock," said Lucy. "It is all very well to be a science, but nobody like ourselves could be expected to act upon it--private people, you know."
"There is something in that," Jock allowed; "there are always exceptions. I only want to show you that the will being all against rule, it _must_ be hard to carry it out. Don't you do anything by yourself, Lucy. When you come across any case that is promising, just you wait till I come, and we'll talk it all over. I don't quite understand about nice people not taking it. Fellows I know are always pleased with presents--or a tip, nobody refuses a tip. And that is just the same sort of thing, you know."
"Not just the same," said Lucy, "for a tip--that means a sovereign, doesn't it?"
"It sometimes means--paper," said Jock, with some solemnity. "Last time you came to see me at school Sir Tom gave me a fiver----"
"Oh, a five-pound note," said Jock, with momentary impatience; "the other's shorter to say and less fuss. MTutor thought he had better not; but I didn't mind. I don't see why anybody should mind. There's a fellow I know--his father is a curate, and there are no end of them, and they've no money. Fellow himself is on the foundation, so he doesn't cost much. Why they shouldn't take a big tip from you, who have too much, I'm sure I can't tell; and I don't believe they would mind," Jock added, after a pause.