“Yes, regarding my respected father,” assented Eugene, settling himself in his armchair. “I would rather have approached my respected father by candlelight, as a theme requiring a little artificial brilliancy; but we will take him by twilight, enlivened with a glow of Wallsend.”

He stirred the fire again as he spoke, and having made it blaze, resumed.

“My respected father has found, down in the parental neighbourhood, a wife for his not-generally-respected son.”

“With some money, of course?”

“With some money, of course, or he would not have found her. My respected father⁠—let me shorten the dutiful tautology by substituting in future M.R.F. , which sounds military, and rather like the Duke of Wellington.”

“What an absurd fellow you are, Eugene!”