The young man shook his head.
"No, Minnie! She's not that sort of girl; and she's not that sort of grandmother. It is the confounded peerage that has crabbed the piece."
Polite incredulity on the part of the audience.
"Minnie, old boy, everybody says you are the cleverest chap in London, but you don't know Mary Caspar."
Arminius Wingrove knew something about Woman, though.
No, ladies—not a cynical ruffian altogether. His heart was in the right place even though he took this mercantile view. Therefore, by the time the Welsh rarebit arrived the great man conceived it to be his duty to dispense something extra superior in the way of advice.
"Young Shelmerdine," said he, "what the dooce do you want to go foolin' around the stage door at all for? A chap like you ought to marry Adela Rocklaw. Make things unpleasant at home. No longer be welcomed in the best houses. Bored to tears about the second week of the honeymoon. Opportunities squandered. Much better have stayed in the Second, and gone racing quietly than to have come into money and to have broken out in this way. Now take the advice of a friend; and let us see you at the Church of Paul or of Peter at an early date awaiting the arrival of old Warlock's sev-
