We'll beat him all round."
My aunt and I regarded him, full of apprehensions.
"I got idees," he said darkly to the cigar, deepening our dread.
He pocketed his cigar-cutter and spoke again.
"We got to learn all the rotten little game first. See, F'rinstance, we
got to get samples of all the blessed wines there are--and learn 'em up.
Stern, Smoor, Burgundy, all of 'em! She took Stern to-night--and when
she tasted it first--you pulled a face, Susan, you did. I saw you. It
surprised you. You bunched your nose. We got to get used to wine and not
do that. We got to get used to wearing evening dress--YOU, Susan, too."
"Always have had a tendency to stick out of my clothes," said my aunt.
"However--Who cares?" She shrugged her shoulders.
I had never seen my uncle so immensely serious.
"Got to get the hang of etiquette," he went on to the fire. "Horses
even. Practise everything. Dine every night in evening dress.... Get
a brougham or something. Learn up golf and tennis and things. Country
gentleman. Oh Fay. It isn't only freedom from Goochery.
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