Big Game | Page 3

strong will--you have yourself, you know, dear, only of course in your case it is guided by judgment and common sense--and you will never drive him into doing a thing against his will. Now just suppose you let him go his own way for a time! Six months or a year can't matter so very much out of a lifetime, and you will never regret erring on the side of kindness."
"Since when, may I ask, have you set yourself up as your father's mentor?" cried that gentleman with a growl; but he was softening obviously, and Margot knew as much, and pinched his nose for a change.
"You must try to remember how you felt yourself when you were young. If you wanted a thing, how badly you wanted it, and how soon, and how terribly cruel every one seemed who interfered! Give Ron a chance, like the dear old sportsman as you are, before you tie him down for life! It's a pity I'm not a boy--I should have loved to be at Lloyd's. Even now--if I went round with the slips, and coaxed the underwriters, don't you think it might be a striking and lucrative innovation?"
Mr Vane laughed at that, and reflected with pride that not a man in the room could boast such a taking little witch for his daughter. Then he grew grave, and returned to the subject in hand.
"In what way do you propose that I shall give the boy a chance?"
"Continue his allowance for a year, and let him give himself up to his work! If at the end of the year he has made no headway, it should be an understanding that he joins you in business without any more fuss; but if he has received real encouragement,--if even one or two editors have accepted his verses, and think well of them--"
"Yes? What then?"
"Then you must consider that Ron has proved his point! It is really a stiff test, for it takes mediocre people far longer than a year to make a footing on the literary ladder. You would then have to continue his allowance, and try to be thankful that you are the father of a poet, instead of a clerk!"
Mr Vane growled again, and, what was worse, sighed into the bargain, a sigh of real heartache and disappointment.
"I have looked forward for twenty years to the time when my son should be old enough to help me! I have slaved all my life to keep a place for him, and now he despises me for my pains! And you will want to be off with him, I suppose, rambling about the country while he writes his rhymes. I shall have to say good-bye to the pair of you! It doesn't matter how dull or lonely the poor old father may be."
Margot looked at him with a reproving eye.
"That's not true, and you know it isn't! I love you best of any one on earth, and I am only talking to you for your own good. I'd like to stay in the country with Ronald in summer, for he does so hate the town, but I'll strike a bargain with you, too! Last year I spent three months in visiting friends. This year I'll refuse all invitations, so that you shan't be deprived of any more of my valuable society."
"And why should you give up your pleasures, pray? Why are you so precious anxious to be with the boy? Are you going to aid and abet him in his efforts?"
"Yes, I am!" answered Margot bravely. "He has his life to live, and I want him to spend it in his own way. If he becomes a great writer, I'll be prouder of him than if he were the greatest millionaire on earth. I'll move heaven and earth to help him, and if he fails I'll move them again to make him a good underwriter! So now you know!"
Mr Vane chewed his moustache, disconsolately resigned.
"Ah well! the partnership will have to go to a stranger, I suppose. I can't get on much longer without help. I hoped it might be one of my own kith and kin, but--"
"Don't be in a hurry, dear. I may fall in love with a pauper, and then you can have a son-in-law to help you, instead of a son."
Mr Vane pushed her away with an impatient hand.
"No more son-in-laws, thank you! One is about as many as I can tackle at a time. Edith has been at me again with a sheaf of bills--"
His eldest daughter's husband had recently failed in business, in consequence of which he himself was at present supporting a second establishment. He sighed, and reflected that it was a thankless task to rear a family. The infantine troubles of teething, whooping-cough, and scarlatina were