“You’re a cynic, my dear,” laughed the Canon. “It’s a grave fault of which I recommend you to correct yourself.” “I beg you not to preach to me, Theodore,” she answered, bridling. “No man is a prophet in his own country,” said he, with a shrug of the shoulders. Then he turned to his brother: “But you will wonder why I sent you that urgent note, asking you to luncheon.” “Not at all. I can quite understand that the pleasure of my company was worth a special messenger.” But Canon Spratte interrupted: “I asked you to come in your official capacity, if I may so call it--as the head of the family.” “My dear Theodore, merely by courtesy: I am unworthy.” “The fact is sufficiently patent without your recalling it,” retorted the Canon, promptly. “But I should be obliged if at this moment, when the affairs of our house are at stake, you would adopt such sobriety and decorum as you are capable of.” “I wish I’d got my coronation robes on now,” sighed Lord Spratte. “Go on, Theodore,” suggested their sister. “Well, you will all of you be gratified to hear that Lord Wroxham has asked my permission to pay his addresses to Winnie.” “In my young days when a man wanted to marry he asked the girl before he asked her father,” said Lady Sophia. “I think it was a very proper proceeding; I am so old-fashioned as to consider a father the best judge of his daughter’s welfare. And I think that in this case I am certainly the first person to be consulted. Wroxham is a young man of the very highest principles, and he naturally chose the correct course.” “And you fell upon him and said: ‘What ho!’” cried Lord Spratte. The Canon gave him a cold stare of surprise and of injured dignity. “I informed him that I had no objection to him as a son-in-law, and I made the usual inquiries into his circumstances.” “What bloomin’ cheek, when every one knows he has twenty thousand a year!” “And finally I imparted to him my conviction that Winnie looked upon him with sincere regard.” “You are a downy old bird, Theodore,” said Lord Spratte, laughing. “There’s many a London matron has set her net to catch that fish.” “I did not expect that you would treat the matter with decorum, Thomas, and it was only from a strong sense of duty towards you as the head of my house, that I requested your presence.” But his elder brother was completely unabashed. “Shut it, Theodore. You know very well that Wroxham can just about wipe his boots with the likes of us.” “I don’t in the least understand what you mean,” replied the Canon, frigidly. “We are his equals in the best sense; and if you wish to go into details, our rank in the peerage is--higher than his.” “Rank in the peerage be hanged! There’s a deuce of a difference between the twenty-first Lord Wroxham with half a county to his back and the second Earl Spratte with a nasty pretentious stucco house and about ten acres of sooty land. Earls like us are as thick as flies.”