Tom L. Lefroy

His uncle, the (Great and Honorable) Judge Langlois, slowly takes his black robe off, the wig still upon his head. Tom stands, his own white-powdered wig still covering much of his hair as he waits for his uncle to finish. "Why are you here in London, sir?"

"To learn the law."

"Which has no other end but what?"

"The preservation of the rights of property..."

"Against?"

Plainly, "The mob."

There is a slightly irritated pause, before the older man continues, readjusting his smaller wig upon his head. "Therefore order is kept because we have..."

"A standing army?"

"Good manners, sir," he says firmly. "And prudence. Do you know that word? Prudence?"

Eyebrows raised, Tom replies: "Yes."

Langlois lowers himself and settles into his seat, leaning back a bit to give his nephew the brunt of his insult. "Consider myself. I was born rich, certainly, but I remained rich by virtue of exceptional conduct. I have shown...restraint."

Pause.

Tom looks irritated.

"Your mother, my sister, became poor because she did not -"

Tom steps forward, unable to control the words coming out of his mouth. "She married my father because she loved him -"

"Yes," his uncle interrupts, "and that's why you have so many brothers and sisters back there in uh..."

"Limerick."

"Mm."

He rises from his seat as Tom stands stoically controlling his temper. He comes to stand right before him.

"If you hope, I say, hope - if you aspire to inherit my property...you must prove yourself more worthy." The older man begins to walk towards the window, Tom's back to him. "But what do we find? We find dissipation, wild enough to glut the imaginings of a Hottentot. Braggadocio."

Pause.

"Wild companions."

A slow smirk appears on Tom's face.

"Gambling."

Another wry smirk.

"Running around St. James' like a nick or nothing young blood of the fancy. What kind of lawyer will that make?"

Before he can stop himself, he replies, "Typical."

There is a long pause before his uncle comes back to stand before him. He scrutinizes the younger man's face with great contemplation. "Humour. Well, you're going to need that. Because I'm teaching you a lesson." He moves to stand behind his desk once more. "I'm sending you to stay with your other relations... The Lefroys."

"Uncle," he protests, "they live in the country." Tom moves forward once more, a stricken expression appearing on his face. No, that -

"Deep in the country."

Tom lets out a despondent sigh as his uncle begins to laugh. Clearly, the old fool will be enjoying this for days to come.