"But listen," pursued Dicky. "Percy may be all we say, but he cheerfully hands over half his weekly screw, which is n’t a fabulous one, to the common fund of the Family. It is not every young man who would do that, especially such a social success as Percy. Oh, yes, Connie, he is a social success; so don’t look incredulous. I tell you he is a regular Apollo at shilling hops. He took me to one a few weeks ago." "Where?" asked Connie. "Somewhere near Kennington Oval. The girls simply swarmed over him. But he is not in the least stuck up about it; and--well, he is kind to Tilly. I am, therefore," concluded Dicky stoutly, "an upholder of Percy." Mr. Carmyle, encouraged by the silence of his wife, felt emboldened to continue his cross-examination. "What about mother-in-law?" he queried. It was a foolish question. "She is a woman in a thousand," said Dicky promptly, and Mrs. Carmyle, with a withering side-glance at her unfortunate lord, nodded her head vigorously in affirmation. "Mrs. Welwyn is not what we call a lady," proceeded Dicky, "but she is the right stuff all through. I admit that she has not been quite successful in her efforts to polish Percy, but look at the others! The little sister, ’Melia, is a dear. The twins are rippers. Old Welwyn--well, he’s a rotter, but he’s a gentlemanly rotter; which pretty well describes the majority of my friends, now I come to think of it. And he is no hypocrite: he is quite frank about his weaknesses. Now, to sum up. On her father’s side Tilly is a lady; on her mother’s side she is a brick. That’s a pretty good combination. Anyhow, it’s good enough for me; and if she’ll have me I’m going to marry her." Dicky concluded the unburdening of his soul with a shout and a wave of his hat, and all the sparrows flew away. "Now," said Connie, patting the seat in a soothing fashion, "sit down and tell me how you are going to do it." Dicky resumed his place beside her and said meekly:-- "I’m looking to you to tell me that, Connie." Apparently he had made the remark that was expected of him, for Connie immediately assumed a little air of profound wisdom, and her unregenerate husband emitted an unseemly gurgle. "Your first difficulty, of course," she said to Dicky, ignoring her wretched and ill-controlled spouse, "will be to see Tilly. After the humiliation of yesterday her only instinct will be to hide herself. She will be not-at-home to you every time you call; and of course, it is n’t fair that you should hang about in the hopes of catching her outside." "No," agreed Dicky. "Not the game." "You have written to her, I suppose?" said Connie. "Yes. Left a note this morning," replied Dicky, brightening up. "Well, of course, that is no use. It will make her happier, poor little soul, but it won’t change her decision. Letters never do. You’ve simply got to see her, Dicky! Bill, run away for a minute, there’s a dear. Go and think about a cantilever, or something, over there."