There was no reply to this rhetorical question. He turned to Archie and said in a gentle, conciliating voice: 'Archie, old chap, tell your mother what it is you want to see. Don't cry, dear.' 'Want to see the damned chameleon,' said Archie, with his hands in his eyes. 'Want father to take me to the Zoo.' 'You can't go to the Zoo this time of the evening. What do you mean?' 'I want to see the damned chameleon.' 'You hear!' exclaimed Bruce to Edith. 'Who taught you this language?' 'Miss Townsend taught it me.' 'There! It's dreadful, Edith; he's becoming a reckless liar. Fancy her dreaming of teaching him such things! If she did, of course she must be mad, and you must send her away at once. But I'm quite sure she didn't.' 'Come, Archie, you know Miss Townsend never taught you to say that. What have you got into your head?' 'Well, she didn't exactly teach me to say it--she didn't give me lessons in it--but she says it herself. She said the damned chameleon was lovely; and I want to see it. She didn't say I ought to see it. But I want to. I've been wanting to ever since. She said it at lunch today, and I do want to. Lots of other boys go to the Zoo, and why shouldn't I? I want to see it so much.' 'Edith, I must speak to Miss Townsend about this very seriously. In the first place, people have got no right to talk about queer animals to the boy at all--we all know what he is--and in such language! I should have thought a girl like Miss Townsend, who has passed examinations in Germany, and so forth, would have had more sense of her responsibility--more tact. It shows a dreadful want of--I hardly know what to think of it--the daughter of a clergyman, too!' 'It's all right, Bruce,' Edith laughed. 'Miss Townsend told me she had been to see the _Dame aux Camélias_ some time ago. She was enthusiastic about it. Archie dear, I'll take you to the Zoological Gardens and we'll see lots of other animals. And don't use that expression.' 'What! Can't I see the da--' 'Mr Vincy,' announced the servant. 'I must go and dress,' said Bruce. Vincy Wenham Vincy was always called by everyone simply Vincy. Applied to him it seemed like a pet name. He had arrived at the right moment, as he always did. He was very devoted to both Edith and Bruce, and he was a confidant of both. He sometimes said to Edith that he felt he was just what was wanted in the little home; an intimate stranger coming in occasionally with a fresh atmosphere was often of great value (as, for instance, now) in calming or averting storms. Had anyone asked Vincy exactly what he was he would probably have said he was an Observer, and really he did very little else, though after he left Oxford he had taken to writing a little, and painting less. He was very fair, the fairest person one could imagine over five years old. He had pale silky hair, a minute fair moustache, very good features, a single eyeglass, and the appearance, always, of having been very recently taken out of a bandbox.