"For shame, Hugh!" said his mother. "What good would you be as a soldier? No one can be an officer in an army unless he is trained; and as for your becoming a private, why, think how ridiculous you would look in a private's uniform."
"I am afraid I must be going," I persisted, moving towards the door.
"I will have the car out and drive you home," said Hugh Lethbridge.
"No," I said, "it is a beautiful night, and I think I would rather walk."
"But in your state of health, Mr. Erskine, it would be very foolish," said Mrs. Lethbridge. "Really, we cannot allow you."
"I would rather walk," I persisted. Whereupon Hugh announced his intention of accompanying me.
When Mr. Lethbridge bade me good-night he had quite recovered his equanimity, and expressed the hope that I would soon come to see them again.
"I feel like a toad in a hole," said Hugh, after we had walked some minutes in silence together.
"What has life to offer a fellow? The pater insisted upon my going to the University and reading for the Bar. I am not fit for it--I know I am not fit. Then, although he pretends to be a man of the people, he is also socially ambitious. You would not believe it, would you? I know it is wrong for me to talk in this way, but somehow I cannot help it. You know, Erskine, as my father said just now, he was a poor man, and made money rapidly, and he is disappointed that the doors of the county people are not open to us. I do not care a fig about the county people myself; do you?"
"You will not take it amiss of me if I tell you something, will you? And, of course, you will regard it as a confidence? It is something which means a lot to me."
"Do you think you know me well enough to tell me?" I replied. "After all, we have only met twice."
"I must tell you," he persisted. "As you say, I have only met you twice, but I seem to have known you all my life. Besides, a fellow must tell his thoughts to some one. I am in love, Erskine."
"Yes, but don't you see, everything is at cross-purposes. Old Treherne, down here, has a daughter several years older than I am. You have heard of Treherne, haven't you? He is the Squire."
"His daughter is on the shelf--has been for several years. He is as poor as a church mouse, is the Squire; but then, he is one of the big people in the county, and the pater has an idea that if I were to marry her ... well, you can see, can't you?"