Tony nodded.

"Yes. Didn't you know he wanted it more than anything? Just as I do," he
added with the quick, whimsical smile which was one of his charms.

Ann shook her head.

"You haven't answered my question," she persisted.

"Well," admitted Tony unwillingly, "he and I did have a bit of a dust-up
this morning. I'm sick of doing nothing. I told him I wanted to be an
architect."

"Well?"

"It was anything but well! He let me have it good and strong. No Brabazon
was going to take up planning houses as a profession if he knew it! I'd got
my duty to the old name and estate and the tenants, et cetera, et cetera.
All the usual tosh."

Ann's face clouded. She devoutly wished that Sir Philip _would_ allow
his nephew to take up some profession--never mind which, so long as it
interested him and gave him definite occupation. To keep him idling about
between Lorne and the Brabazon town house in Audley Square was the worst
thing in the world for him. Privately she determined to approach her
godfather on the subject at the very next opportunity, though she could
make a very good, guess at the reason for his refusal. It was a purely
selfish one. He liked to have the boy with him. Bully him and browbeat him
as he might, Tony was in reality the apple of the old man's eye--the one
thing in the whole world for which he cared.