At least _I_ don't. There's no accounting for tastes, as my poor niece Phyllida has been shewing. You are going to Brackenbury, of course? Every one _does_ by this train. In the old days my father enjoyed the privilege of being able to stop every train that ran through Brackenbury station; he held property on both sides of the line and was a director for very many years. One said a word to the guard--they were a very civil lot of men--, and that was literally all. My brother has allowed that to lapse, like everything else; and you now have to come by the four-twenty or not at all. I should have thought the Brackenbury parties were difficult enough without giving everybody a gratuitous two hours in the train to grow tired of everybody else. My sister-in-law Ruth has other qualities, no doubt, but she will not go down to history as one of the great English hostesses... It's not surprising, perhaps; but, if you're not born to that sort of thing, wouldn't you make an effort to _acquire_ it? There must be brains of _some_ kind in the family, or the father could never have made all that money. I always felt a certain responsibility about Ruth; Brackenbury _had_ to marry some one with a _little_ money, and, knowing the _sort_ of girl he'd fancy if I gave him half a chance... I was fourteen years older and knew something of poor Brackenbury's limitations; when I met Ruth Philpot and found that the money _did_ come from quite a respectable shipping firm in Hull, I said: "Marry her, my dear boy, before you have a chance of making a greater fool of yourself." And I told him I'd do what I could for her; little hints, you understand... I'm afraid poor Ruth was not a very apt pupil; and Brackenbury, who never had _any_ sense of his position, was a mere broken reed. "Assert yourself!," I used to say. "If _you_ don't absorb _her_, she'll absorb _you_." That is the only occasion on which I have ever interfered in matters of the heart, either to guide or check; I look at Ruth Brackenbury and say to myself: "Ann Spenworth, you have your lesson ever before you." I would not urge or hinder now, even with my own son. Phyllida may try to fix responsibility on me, but I repudiate it--entirely. In the present instance I feel that it is, once again, the sins of the parents... As I felt it my duty to tell them, there wouldn't have been a moment's trouble with Phyllida, if she had been brought up differently...