Black Sheep

'I've no idea. Or what you imagine I could – or would – do for you.'

This was not encouraging, but Stacy persevered. 'Don't you

feel that we should get to know one another, sir?'

'No, why?'

Stacy blinked at him. 'Well – our relationship!'

'Don't give it a thought! Relations are a dead bore.'

'Not you, sir!' said Stacy, with his ready laugh. 'Indeed, far from it! I can't tell you how many times in the past week I've heard your praises sung!'

'Well, don't try. Are you hopeful of borrowing money from me?'

'Much good that would do me! I daresay your pockets are as much to let as mine!' Stacy said, tossing off the brandy in his glass, and stretching out his hand for the bottle.

Miles, who was warming his own glass in his cupped hands, said: 'As I don't know to what extent your pockets are to let –'

He was interrupted. 'Wholly!' Stacy said, with yet another laugh, this time one devoid of mirth. 'I'm all to pieces!' He waited for a moment, but as he won no other response than a polite look of enquiry from his unfeeling relative continued jerkily: 'The devil's been in the cards! Yes, and in the bones too! I've only to rattle them and they fall crabs! If I can't contrive to fly a kite, I shall be gutted!'

Mr Miles Calverleigh, having warmed his glass to his satisfaction, and savoured the aroma of the brandy, sipped it delicately. 'I daresay you'll come about,' he said.

Anger rose in Stacy, and, with it, his colour. 'Not if that curst aunt of Fanny's has anything to say to it! And now she tells me that Fanny don't come of full age until she's five-and-twenty!'

'You will have to look for another kite to fly, won't you?'

Stacy disposed of his second glass of brandy. 'Do you suppose I haven't done so? Damn it, I thought it was all hollow! But when a man's luck is out it's ames-ace with him, whatever he sets his hand to! I've been punting on tick for weeks past –

hardly dare show my face in town!'

'I should go abroad, if I were you.'

'Pray, what should I subsist on?' snapped Stacy.

'Oh, on your wits!' said Miles cheerfully.

'I collect that's what you did!'

'Yes, of course.'

'They don't seem to have served you very well!'

Miles laughed. 'Better than an apron-string hold would have done, I promise you!'

There was just enough contempt in his voice to put Stacy, already embarking on a third glass, in a flame. He exclaimed: 'I don't know what right you have to hold up your nose, sir! It's what you did – or tried to do – yourself !'

'Is it?' said Miles. 'You seem to be remarkably well informed!'

'You as good as told me so,' Stacy muttered. 'In any event, I've always known that you ran off with some heiress or another.'

'So I did,' agreed Miles, without the smallest sign of discomposure. 'I shouldn't recommend you to follow my example: you would do better to regard me in the light of a grim warning.'

'I don't wish to run off with Fanny! It was never my intention, until that archwife returned to Bath to thrust a spoke in my wheel!'

'That what ?'

The astonishment in his uncle's voice recalled to Stacy's mind his reason for having invited him to dinner, and, with an abrupt change of front, he said: 'I should not abuse her! No, or blame her either, I suppose. But when one's hopes are cut up – She has set her face against the marriage, sir!'