She paused. It wasn't kind to the poor things to say "I don't love them

the same."

"Do you like us so awfully, then?"

"Yes."

"I'm glad you like us."

They were silent.

Up and down the flagged terrace above them Aunt Adeline and Uncle Robert

walked together. The sound of his voice came to them, low and troubled.

Anne listened, "Is anything wrong?" she said. "They've been like that

for ages."

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"Daddy's bothered about Eliot."

"Eliot?"

"About his wanting to be a doctor."

"Is Auntie Adeline bothered?"

"No. She would be if she knew. But she doesn't think it'll happen. She

never thinks anything will happen that she doesn't like. But it will.

They can't keep him off it. He's been doing medicine at Cambridge

because they won't let him go and do it at Bart's. It's just come out

that he's been at it all the time. Working like blazes."

"Why shouldn't he be a doctor if he likes?"

"Because he's the eldest son. It wouldn't matter so much if it was only

Colin or me. But Eliot ought to have the estate. And he says he won't

have it. He doesn't want it. He says Daddy's got to leave it to me.

That's what's worrying the dear old thing. He thinks it wouldn't be

fair."

"Who to?"

Jerrold laughed. "Why, to _Eliot_. He's got it into his dear old head

that he _ought_ to have it. He can't see that Eliot knows his own

business best. It _would_ be most awfully in his way... It's pretty

beastly for me, too. I don't like taking it when I know Daddy wants

Eliot to have it. That's to say, he _doesn't_ want; he'd like me to have

it, because I'd take care of it. But that makes him all the more stuck

on Eliot, because he thinks it's the right thing. I don't like having it

in any case."

"Why ever not?"

"Well, I _can_ only have it if Daddy dies, and I'd rather die myself

first."

"That's how I feel about my farm."

"Beastly, isn't it? Still, I'm not worrying. Daddy's frightfully

healthy, thank Heaven. He'll live to be eighty at the very least. Why--I

should be fifty."

"_You're_ all right," said Anne. "But it's awful for me. Grandpapa might

die any day. He's seventy-five _now_. It'll be ages before you're

fifty."

"And I may never be it. India may polish me off long before that." He

laughed his happy laugh. The idea of his own death seemed to Jerrold

irresistibly funny.

"_India_?"

He laughed again at her dismay.

"Rather. I'm going in for the Indian Civil."

"Oh Jerrold--you'll be away years and years, nearly all the time, like

Daddy, and I shan't ever see you."

"I shan't start for ages. Not for five years. Lots of time to see each

other in."




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