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and then. All the rest are awful bounders.’
Presently Watson applied himself to some work he had
in hand, and Philip set about sorting his letters. Then Mr.
Goodworthy came in to say that Mr. Carter had arrived. He
took Philip into a large room next door to his own. There
was a big desk in it, and a couple of big arm-chairs; a Tur-
key carpet adorned the floor, and the walls were decorated
with sporting prints. Mr. Carter was sitting at the desk and
got up to shake hands with Philip. He was dressed in a long
frock coat. He looked like a military man; his moustache
was waxed, his gray hair was short and neat, he held himself
upright, he talked in a breezy way, he lived at Enfield. He
was very keen on games and the good of the country. He was
an officer in the Hertfordshire Yeomanry and chairman of
the Conservative Association. When he was told that a lo-
cal magnate had said no one would take him for a City man,
he felt that he had not lived in vain. He talked to Philip in a
pleasant, off-hand fashion. Mr. Goodworthy would look af-
ter him. Watson was a nice fellow, perfect gentleman, good
sportsman—did Philip hunt? Pity, THE sport for gentle-
men. Didn’t have much chance of hunting now, had to leave
that to his son. His son was at Cambridge, he’d sent him
to Rugby, fine school Rugby, nice class of boys there, in a
couple of years his son would be articled, that would be nice
for Philip, he’d like his son, thorough sportsman. He hoped
Philip would get on well and like the work, he mustn’t miss
his lectures, they were getting up the tone of the profession,
they wanted gentlemen in it. Well, well, Mr. Goodworthy
was there. If he wanted to know anything Mr. Goodworthy

Of Human Bondage