‘That’s a kind of joke, sir,’ said Lord Warburton.

‘You young men have too many jokes. When there are no jokes you’ve nothing left.’

‘Fortunately there are always more jokes,’ the ugly young man remarked.

‘I don’t believe it—I believe things are getting more serious. You young men will find that out.’

‘The increasing seriousness of things, then—that’s the great opportunity of jokes.’

‘They’ll have to be grim jokes,’ said the old man. ‘I’m convinced there will be great changes; and not all for the better.’

‘I quite agree with you, sir,’ Lord Warburton declared. ‘I’m very sure there will be great changes, and that all sorts of queer things will happen. That’s why I find so much difficulty in applying your advice; you know you told me the other day that I ought to “take hold” of something. One hesitates to take hold of a thing that may the next moment be knocked sky-high.’

‘You ought to take hold of a pretty woman,’ said his companion. ‘He’s trying hard to fall in love,’ he added, by way of explanation, to his father.

‘The pretty women themselves may be sent flying!’ Lord Warburton exclaimed.

‘No, no, they’ll be firm,’ the old man rejoined; ‘they’ll not be affected by the social and political changes I just referred to.’

‘You mean they won’t be abolished? Very well, then, I’ll lay hands on one as soon as possible and tie her round my neck as a life-preserver.’

‘The ladies will save us,’ said the old man; ‘that is the best of them will—for I make a difference between them. Make up to a good one and marry her, and your life will become much more interesting.’

A momentary silence marked perhaps on the part of his auditors a sense of the magnanimity of this speech, for it was a secret neither for his son nor for his visitor that his own experiment in matrimony had not been a happy one. As he said, however, he made a difference; and these words may have been intended as a confession of personal error; though of course it was not in place for either of his companions to remark that apparently the lady of his choice had not been one of the best.

‘If I marry an interesting woman I shall be interested: is that what you say?’ Lord Warburton asked. ‘I’m not at all keen about marrying—your son misrepresented me; but there’s no knowing what an interesting woman might do with me.’

‘I should like to see your idea of an interesting woman,’ said his friend.

‘My dear fellow, you can’t see ideas—especially such highly ethereal ones as mine. If I could only see it myself—that would be a great step in advance.’

‘Well, you may fall in love with whomsoever you please; but you mustn’t fall in love with my niece,’ said the old man.

His son broke into a laugh. ‘He’ll think you mean that as a provocation! My dear father, you’ve lived with the English for thirty years, and you’ve picked up a good many of the things they say. But you’ve never learned the things they don’t say!’

‘I say what I please,’ the old man returned with all his serenity.