“You don’t know Sir John Durant, the brewer, do you, father?” asked Lionel. “He told me that since they gave him a baronetcy people have been regularly sending him a new and original family tree once a week.” “He must have quite a forest by now,” answered Lord Spratte. “What does he use ’em for--hop-poles?” “I should have thought they would make admirable Christmas presents for his poor relations,” suggested the Canon, who could not resist his little joke even on subjects dear to him. He turned again to his daughter. “By the way, Winnie, I find I shall be unable to go to Mr. Railing’s meeting to-morrow.” “He’ll be awfully disappointed. He was expecting you to make a speech.” “I’ve promised Lady Vizard to lunch with her to meet the Princess of Wartburg-Hochstein. I shouldn’t be able to get away early enough. A clergyman’s time is really never his own, and the Princess wishes particularly to meet me.” “People so often forget that even Royal Personages have spiritual difficulties,” murmured Lady Sophia. “I shall write a little note to Mr. Railing wishing him luck, and with your permission, Sophia, I’ll ask him to tea afterwards.” “Is he presentable?” “He’s a gentleman, Aunt Sophia,” cried Winnie. “And he’s as beautiful as a Greek god.” Winnie flushed as she said this, and dropped her eyes. They were pleasant and blue like her father’s, but instead of his bold friendliness had a plaintiveness of expression which was rather charming. They seemed to appeal for confidence and for affection. “Shall I come and address your meeting, Winnie?” asked Lord Spratte, amused at her enthusiasm. “What is it about?” “Teetotalism!” she smiled. “Most of the London clergy go in for that now, don’t they?” remarked Lionel. “The bishop asked me the other day whether I was an abstainer.” “The bishop is a man of no family, Lionel,” retorted his father. “Personally I make no secret of the fact that I do not approve of teetotalism. Temperance, yes! But how can you be temperate if you abstain entirely? Corn and wine, the wheat, the barley, the vine, are ubiquitous; the corn strengthens, the wine gladdens man’s heart, as at the marriage feast in Cana of Galilee.” Lord Spratte opened his mouth to speak. “I wish you wouldn’t continually interrupt me, Thomas,” cried the Canon, before his brother could utter a word. “He who has solemnly pledged himself to total abstinence has surrendered to a society of human and modern institution his liberty to choose. Now what is it you wished to say, Thomas?” “I merely wanted to ask Ponsonby for more potatoes.” “I knew it was some flippant observation,” retorted the Canon. “The bishop suggested that total abstinence in the clergy served as an example,” said Lionel, mildly.