“My dear Grace,” said I, “don’t let’s worry about Biffin any more. _I’m_ perfectly willing for him to stand, you know.” “What!” cried the whole table with one voice. Yet I ask you what could a fellow do under the circumstances? Splendid isolation is magnificent, of course, but not being one of Grace’s brothers, how could I help pitying the isolated? The storm of contumely that my unconditional surrender provoked was woeful. Even the gallant Optimist reviled me. Their unanimity was crushing. It was not the question at issue that mattered so much; it was the general principle. It always is the general principle. They considered themselves betrayed. They had pledged themselves and their interests entirely in _my_ cause, and then I calmly go over to the other side and merge that cause in the enemy’s. In fact, in the impassioned language of Toddles, the more they examined the fine points of my conduct, the deeper the iron entered into their souls. “Jolly good o’ the iron,” said Grace; “improve ’em no end. Been wanting a tonic a long time.” Grace, indeed, I am glad to state, took an entirely different view of my behaviour. Never had I seen her face so brightly eloquent as when she laid down her coffee-cup and looked at me. “Dimmy,” said she, “you’re a good sort, that’s what you are--a ripping good sort. Dimmy, you’re A 1!” Her tone implied that she meant it, too. And really it was decidedly consoling to feel that we stood together facing scorn and disfavour on every hand. But it seemed that the tactful Grace knew how, when, and where to be generous. Or, no, I’m quite sure her generosity was not studied at all. It was just unaided nature! “Look here, you men,” said she; “as Dimmy’s such a good sort, he’s not going to be such a good sort, do you see? No, I don’t mean that exactly; I mean----” “If it’s sheer cheek that you mean, which we’ve every reason to fear that it is,” said Toddles, “we shall be very grateful if you’ll be content to consider it said. If we have any more before lunch I’m thinking that some of the batting won’t be of a very high order at Tonbridge on Monday.” “That’ll do, Toddles,” said Grace. “Have a rest now, there’s a good little man. What was I saying? Oh, as Dimmy’s done the right thing, I’m going to do the right thing, too. Father, will you stand to-day, please?” A rousing cheer greeted this announcement. “I’ve always said,” remarked George, “that more can be done by the kindness method in the treatment of these wild natures than cruelty, firearms, and that sort of thing. Here’s Grace lying down now, apparently as tame and docile as a kitten, without the use of red-hot irons or anything of the kind. And it’s so much better than burning her fur, don’t you know.” The Rector consenting to stand, the affair terminated. Biffin, for that day at least, had to be content with the humbler functions of the scorer.