"Dignity, old friend," said Tuppy categorically. "House of Lords, family traditions, pride of birth, ancient lineage—the whole damn thing’s wrong. Besides, it would get into the papers, ’Noble Lord caretaker in the suburbs: Tuppy’s latest!’ ugh!" He shuddered. "An’ again," he went on. "Where is Brockley, what is Brockley, who has ever lived in Brockley: what part has Brockley played in the stirrin’ story of our national life? Is there a Lord Brockley, or a Bishop of Brockley or a Lord of the Manor. Yes, there is a ’Lord of the Manor,’" he amended bitterly. "It’s the name of a public-house. It’s no go, dear old boy, it can’t be done. I’ve looked it up, found it on a map, an’ read about it in the _A.B.C. Time Table_. It’s all back-gardens an’ workman’s trains, an’ stipendiary magistrates, an’ within walkin’ distance of the County Court." He shook his head so vigorously that his eyeglass fell out. He replaced it carefully and pulled on his gloves. "Now look here, Tuppy," said Hal impatiently, "for heaven’s sake, don’t be a raving ass!" "Neatly put," commended Tuppy. "You get this house free; you get the money—cash down; you get what you haven’t got now—unlimited credit." "Pardon, pardon," corrected Tuppy carefully, "my credit is exceptionally good, if the tradesmen only knew it; it’s the rotten conservatism of English business methods that is paralysin’ my budget, an’ the socialistic tendencies of the tradin’ classes that is interferin’ with my economic adjustments. Tanny, old sparrow, it’s no go." He shook his head. "No shootin’ except cats; no fishin’ except with worms—I particularly loath worms and spiders—no society." "There is the Duke." Tuppy had forgotten the Duke, and Hal’s sarcasm was effective. "Duke?" Tuppy frowned. "The Duke—of course." "Now what on earth is the Duke doin’ there?" he burst forth in a tone of extreme annoyance, "an’ what duke is it?" "I’ve told you a dozen times," said the exasperated Hal, "he’s an obscure foreign duke—" "Name?" "De Montvillier—quite an unknown——" "Steady the Buffs," warned Tuppy, "de Montvillier? Best house in France. Tanny, my impulsive soul, the Montvilliers are devils of chaps. Obscure! Phew." He looked at Hal reproachfully. Then he shook his head for the fourteenth time. "Five hundred pounds an’ a back garden," he considered, "an’ the Duke. He’s pretty sure to play _picquet_. By the blessed shades of the original Smith, I’ve a good mind——" He pondered sucking his index finger. "I dare say we’d get on well together——" "Look here, Tuppy!" Hal was pardonably indignant. "You don’t think we want you to go down to Brockley to keep the Duke amused, do you? We want you to cut him out, make him look like a tallow candle by the side of a searchlight. "Oh, I’ll cut him out all right," said Tuppy with confidence, "there are few chaps who can beat me at piquet."