“It’s a pity you don’t see much of him!” countered the Earl. “I should have known better than to think you might make it your business to do so!”

“Well, yes, I think you should!” replied the Viscount frankly.

“I take it,” said the Earl, visibly controlling his temper, “that I should be wasting my breath if I asked you to take the young wastrel in hand!”

“You would indeed, Papal Lord, what heed do you think he would pay to me?”

“Oh, well,” replied his lordship grudgingly, “for all your faults you’re good ton, you’re a member of the Four-horse Club, and—thanks to my training!—a pretty accomplished fencer. They tell me that the younger men are inclined to follow your lead, so there’s no saying but what you might have more influence over him than I have.”

“If you had had any brothers, Papa,” said the Viscount, smiling, “you would know that the junior members of the fraternity are very much more likely to run directly counter to what their eldest brother advises than to follow his lead, even if he were a far more notable sportsman than I am! I am sorry to disoblige you, but I must firmly decline to meddle in Simon’s career. I don’t think there’s the least need for anyone to do so, but if you do think so it’s for you to curb his activities, not me!”

“How the devil can I curb them?” demanded his father explosively. “He’s a curst care-for-nobody, and although you may consider me a gudgeon I promise you I’m not such a gudgeon as to stop his allowance! A pretty thing it would be if he got himself rolled-up and I were forced to rescue him from some sponging-house! Not but what it would do him good to be locked up!”

“You know, sir, you are taking much too gloomy a view of young Simon’s prospects! I wish you won’t tease yourself over him—even if he has put you all on end!”