language. A singularly unfortunate entanglement;

people would be shocked; family interests would suffer; such unions never turned out well—how could they? Besides, Warlock was so sensitive. In fact, with all the conviction of which he was capable—and a Proconsul is capable of a good deal—Father urged Son to pause and reflect.

Son had already done so.

Was it conceivable?

Oh, yes, quite, if Father didn't mind his saying so. He had a private income, and she was the nicest girl in London; an opinion, he was sure, in which Father was bound to concur, when he'd seen her.

But. . .!!

Yes, but people were getting so much broader-minded, weren't they?

Father had heard that that was the case; but in his opinion excess of breadth was an even more serious menace to the Empire—being a great Proconsul, of course, Father always thought Imperially—than to err a little on the other side.

If you looked at things in that way, thought Mr. Philip.

Don't cheek your father and a proconsul, too, you young bounder, said the Twin Brethren.

Don't let those eyebrows overawe you, my son, said the Green Chartreuse.