A knock came upon the door. Reginald, the butler, opening it, peered out at a figure he had difficulty recognizing for a moment in the darkness. Ah, he knew this man.
     "Good evening sir. What brings you to Grimstone at this late hour?"
"A matter of great importance, to which I am unable to divulge details. Is Sir Crickston about?"
"He is asleep sir" "
"He must be wakened. The matter is of extreme urgency"
Reginald strode away as fast as a dignified butler could and soon Sir Crickston appeared, not quite awake, but conscious enough to appraise the matter he would soon be presented with. 
    "Whatley? What is the matter? For what reason am I I aroused from fitful sleep?"
   "A carriage containing your son has overturned on the brewery road. He was injured, as were others"
   "How is he affected?"
   "A broken leg, to which he has received a cast, and a blow to his head, to which he has received stitches. He is in hospital"
   "Reginald! Gather my cloak and cane. We're off to St. Elias at once!"

    A mere two hours later they were in the local village and entering the door of St. Elias hospital. "Sir Crickston!" gasped the nurse on duty at the sight of the esteemed personage. "Right this way!"
    Led down a nearly silent corridor, they came soon upon Sir Crickston's son's room. He was propped up in bed, and, as the nurse had relayed during their walk down the hallway, still under the effects of the sedative the doctor had administered. 

"Hiya pops! Guess I f___ed up again" Sir Crickston's son emitted.
  "He never speaks in such a vulgar manner!" an alarmed Sir Crickston muttered to the nurse. "The effects of the sedative! If we could be left alone...."
    "Most certainly, Sir Crickston!" the nurse said as she backed up, then exited the room. 
    Sir Crickston turned his attention back to his son. 
"Doctor Dobbs said you would make a complete recovery. I passed him on the way in. Alexander- what were you doing at the brewery with those wretched 'friends' of yours? I have cautioned you time and again that they are merely a gang of ruffians and will do nothing to further the ambitions or social standing of the Crickston family. They will only add to its detriment! Word gets around, you must at the very least be able to understand that. Already families of distinction are distancing themselves from involvement in our social affairs. You are incorrigible!
  I have half a mind to disown you!"
"Disown me, then, father! I will be the better for it!"
"Drugs are in possession of your mind" Sir Crickston replied. "Your ability to reason has been compromised"
"I am firmly in control of my faculties and I say again, disown me! Free me from your life of dull parties and limpid society gatherings! I have much more fun with the lower classes at the breweries, pubs, and dance halls in town. I have a surprise for you, father- I have recently asked the cigarette girl at the Cabana Club for her hand in marriage"
    "You can't be serious!"
  "I am"
   "This will bring you to ruin! No son of mine will be allowed to marry a club girl!"
   "I can, I will, and I don't care!"
   "Impetuous youth! Enough of this! I shall have, as soon as you are able to be moved, a task for Reginald and some others of the estate staff. You shall be forcibly removed to our families' second estate, Dragoon. Once there placed, on the distant Scottish moors for the summer, you, through reeducation, will again begin to learn and appreciate your postion in society!
  "I shall not be removed!"
  "Even now agents under my employ have barred any means of your escape. You will follow your father's wishes!"
"Argghh!!!"

And so it came to pass that young Alexander was expatriated to Scotland for the longest summer of his young life. Upon his return home, he slowly started to pass the brewery in his carriage and while doing so, gave nary a glance at his old friends, who saw him and pleaded with him to join them. 
"I shall not!" Alexander shouted out. "I am a changed man! I read the good book daily, am courting a sweet and polite member of my standing as my future wife, and have studied the means of accounting and business so that I may soon take up duties at my father's firm. I shall n'er see the likes of you again!"
"What the f___ happened to you?" challenged 'Sir Loathsome', the former leader of Alexander's run-around crew. "Have you gone insane?”
  "Ha ha" chuckled Alexander. "I see your choice of vernacular is still the same- coarse. I, my old 'associate', have become sensible”
Sir Loathsome looked around at the other members of the local crew and the look he gave them was that his old pal Alex had most certainly lost his mind. 
  "Ok ‘Alexander’" Sir Loathsome said. "Go. Go and be a member of polite society. Take Miss Jane or whatevers hand in marriage. Raise some fine young lads and lasses. Enjoy your time at your father's firm. Purchase a grand estate. Manicure the grounds. Have tea at four o'clock in the afternoon every day. Read The Times every morning, pressed flat with an iron by whatever butler you hire. Throw gala social events where everybody of your kind mingles over punch and harpsichord music. And then, the day you wake up bored out of your mind, come on down to the brewpub and over some greasy fish and chips and a frothy mug of grog, we in the old gang will celebrate your return to reality!”.