nting," he said.

"Why?" asked his uncle in astonishment.

"I don't think there's much object in being a second-rate painter, and I
came to the conclusion that I should never be anything else."

"You surprise me. Before you went to Paris you were quite certain that you
were a genius."

"I was mistaken," said Philip.

"I should have thought now you'd taken up a profession you'd have the
pride to stick to it. It seems to me that what you lack is perseverance."

Philip was a little annoyed that his uncle did not even see how truly
heroic his determination was.

"'A rolling stone gathers no moss,'" proceeded the clergyman. Philip hated
that proverb above all, and it seemed to him perfectly meaningless. His
uncle had repeated it often during the arguments which had preceded his
departure from business. Apparently it recalled that occasion to his
guardian.

"You're no longer a boy, you know; you must begin to think of settling
down. First you insist on becoming a chartered accountant, and then you
get tired of that and you want to become a painter. And now if you please
you change your mind again. It points to..."

He hesitated for a moment to consider what defects of character exactly it
indicated, and Philip finished the sentence.

"Irresolution, incompetence, want of foresight, and lack of
determination."

The Vicar looked up at his nephew quickly to see whether he was laughing
at him. Philip's face was serious, but there was a twinkle in his eyes
which irritated him. Philip should really be getting more serious. He felt
it right to give him a rap over the knuckles.

"Your money matters have nothing to do with me now. You're your own
master; but I think you should remember that your money won't last for
ever, and the unlucky deformity you have doesn't exactly make it easier
for you to earn your living."

Philip knew by now that whenever anyone was angry with him his first
thought was to say something about his club-foot. His estimate of the
human race was determined by the fact that scarcely anyone failed to
resist the temptation. But he had trained himself not to show any sign
that the reminder wounded him. He had even acquired control over the
blushing which in his boyhood had been one of his torments.

"As you justly remark," he answered, "my money matters have nothing to do
with you and I am my own master."

"At all events you will do me the justice to acknowledge that I was
justified in my oppositio