Quinney stated his case quietly. During the course of the narrative Lord Mel smiled more than once, but his sympathies were entirely with the father, for he had endured, not too patiently, somewhat similar scenes with his own daughters. Moreover, he hated Honeybun, whom he had denounced in the Upper Chamber as a mischievous and unscrupulous demagogue. Quinney ended upon a high note of interrogation: "What shall I do with her, my lord?" Lord Mel considered the question, trying to stand upright in the shoes of his former tenant. It is a hopeful sign of the times that such magnates do descend from their pedestals, and attempt, with a certain measure of success, to see eye to eye with the groundlings. "I prescribe a change of diet, my dear fellow. We must both face the disconcerting fact that girls to-day need special treatment. Mrs. Honeybun is one of the Shrieking Sisterhood. I have heard her shriek—she does it effectively. Noise appeals to the very young. I suggest removing Posy from Orchard Street, and sending her to a carefully conducted boarding school, where plenty of fresh air and exercise will soon blow these ideas out of her pretty head. There are dozens of such schools scattered along our south coast." "Send her away from me and her mother?" "Drastic, I admit, but you have put it admirably. ’No more Honeybunning!’ Keep her in London, and she may Honeybun on the sly. Will you entrust this little matter of finding a suitable school to me?" "Your lordship is a real friend." "I will speak to my lady." "Expense don’t matter," said Quinney earnestly. "I want my daughter to have the best, because, my lord, as a young feller, I had the worst. No education at all! Posy’s a wonderful talker! She’d have downed me this morning if I’d let her. She talks like—like——" "Like Honeybun, eh?" "If I wasn’t sittin’ in your lordship’s library, I should damn that dirty dog!" "Such fellows thrive on abuse. That is their weapon. We must use others—ridicule, for example. How old is your girl?" "Nearly sixteen." "Good! You have nipped a cankered bud in time. You shall hear from me within twenty-four hours, Let me show you an interesting bit of Crown Derby _bisque_." He paused, and added derisively: "You know, Quinney, there are moments when my things appeal to me tremendously. Persons are disappointing, but every day I discover fresh beauties in my china cabinets." "Same here," said Quinney, with enthusiasm. *III*