Little did he know how
great, as far as he was concerned, were the issues that depended upon his
behaviour. If he had known, he would perhaps have played his part less
successfully.
His aunt drew from him more details of his home and school life than his
papa and mamma would have approved of, but he had no idea that he was
being pumped. She got out of him all about the happy Sunday evenings,
and how he and Joey and Charlotte quarrelled sometimes, but she took no
side and treated everything as though it were a matter of course. Like
all the boys, he could mimic Dr Skinner, and when warmed with dinner, and
two glasses of sherry which made him nearly tipsy, he favoured his aunt
with samples of the Doctor's manner and spoke of him familiarly as "Sam."
"Sam," he said, "is an awful old humbug." It was the sherry that brought
out this piece of swagger, for whatever else he was Dr Skinner was a
reality to Master Ernest, before which, indeed, he sank into his boots in
no time. Alethea smiled and said, "I must not say anything to that, must
I?" Ernest said, "I suppose not," and was checked. By-and-by he vented
a number of small second-hand priggishnesses which he had caught up
believing them to be the correct thing, and made it plain that even at
that early age Ernest believed in Ernest with a belief which was amusing
from its absurdity.
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