"Do? I don't know. I've spent all my life trying things and leaving them before they left me." "It was a terrible blow to us, your leaving the Navy like that." "Was it? It's so long ago now, but I was rather surprised at it myself. I was sick of the water and pretending to defend England's shores when nobody seemed to want to attack them." "But you were only a boy." "I sometimes think I shall never be anything else. I can't stand the things men do. They waste such a lot of time over them." "But you must work." "I suppose so. But I shall have to ask you to feed me for a little." "Oh! your father won't say no to you. He never says no to any one." "There's consistency in that." "Your father is not the man he was. We have had terrible times, my dear. Too dreadful. The people in this town." "Why don't the girls get married?" asked Serge. "My dear," answered his mother, "there are so few men whom one would like to see them marry." Mary and Gertrude returned, and just then Francis came in. Serge went up to him and kissed him, and Francis said "God bless my soul." When he realised who it was he shook his son warmly by the hand and went on saying: "I'm glad to see you, glad to see you, glad to see you." And he chuckled inside him and made Serge sit down, and stood looking at him, taking him in, and went on: "Something like a prodigal son, eh, Martha? Only the queer thing is that I feel it is I who ought to say 'I am no more worthy to be called thy father!'" Martha protested, and they sat down to supper. Francis sat absolutely silent at the head of the table and Martha prattled and told Serge all the family news, all the deaths, and all the contents of all the wills, especially those by which neither she nor Francis had benefited, and how Willie Folyat had won his case and become Earl of Leedham, and how Minna had been practically engaged to him once and might have been a countess but for her folly. "I couldn't have borne Willie for a husband. He was so mushy," said Minna. "You might have left him and got a handsome settlement," suggested Serge. "Oh, no! The title carries very little money." "Left him! Serge!" Mrs. Folyat apostrophised him. Minna winked at Serge and said: "You're not married, I suppose?" "No." They ate cold ham and pickles and Gruyère cheese and captains' biscuits. Francis drank toast and water and Serge disposed of two bottles of beer. He looked round at the family portraits and drank their healths. "I wonder," he said, "how they like seeing us here?" "I often sit with them," replied Francis, breaking his silence, "and I fancy they are snobs and like being in a place where they can feel themselves immeasurably superior." "Some of them," remarked Mrs. Folyat, "are worth at least a hundred pounds."