Lidderdale told Mark that he should recoup
himself for the loss out of the money left by his mother.
"How much did she leave?" his nephew asked.
"Don't ask impertinent questions."
"But it's my money, isn't it?"
"It will be your money in another six years, if you behave yourself.
Meanwhile half of it will be devoted to paying your premium at the
office of my friend Mr. Hitchcock."
"But I don't want to be a solicitor. I want to be a priest," said Mark.
Uncle Henry produced a number of cogent reasons that would make his
nephew's ambition unattainable.
"Very well, if I can't be a priest, I don't want the money, and you can
keep it yourself," said Mark. "But I'm not going to be a solicitor."
"And what are you going to be, may I inquire?" asked Uncle Henry.
"In the end I probably _shall_ be a priest," Mark prophesied. "But I
haven't quite decided yet how. I warn you that I shall run away."
"Run away," his uncle echoed in amazement. "Good heavens, boy, haven't
you had enough of running away over this deplorable Pomeroy affair?
Where are you going to run to?"
"I couldn't tell you, could I, even if I knew?" Mark asked as tactfully
as he was able. "But as a matter of fact, I don't know. I only know that
I won't go into Mr.
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