t on her sleeve?"

"She could not do that: not enough sleeve."

Sir John Meredith had his own views on ladies' dress.

"But," he added, "we will not quarrel. Arrange matters with the young
lady as best you can. I shall never approve of such a match, and without
my approval you cannot well marry."

"I do not admit that."

"Indeed?"

"Your approval means money," explained this dutiful son politely. "I
might manage to make the money for myself."

Sir John moved away.

"You might," he admitted, looking back. "I should be very glad to see
you doing so. It is an excellent thing--money."

And he walked leisurely away.

CHAPTER III. A FAREWELL

Since called
The Paradise of Fools, to few unknown.

Having been taught to take all the chances and changes of life with
a well-bred calmness of demeanour, Jack Meredith turned the teaching
against the instructor. He pursued the course of his social duties
without appearing to devote so much as a thought to the quarrel which
had taken place in the conservatory. His smile was as ready as ever, his
sight as keen where an elderly lady looked hungry, his laughter as near
the surface as society demands. It is probable that Sir John suffered
more, though he betrayed nothing. Youth has the upper hand in these
cases, for life is a larger thing when we are young. As we get on in
years, our eggs, to use a homely simile, have a way of accumulating into
one basket.

At eleven o'clock the next morning Sir John Meredith's valet intimated
to his master that Mr. Meredith was waiting in the breakfast-room. Sir
John was in the midst of his toilet--a complicated affair, which, like
other works of art, would not bear contemplation when incomplete.

"Tell him," said the uncompromising old gentleman, "that I will come
down when I am ready."

He made a more careful toilet than usual, and finally came down in a gay
tweed suit, of which the general effect was distinctly heightened by a
pair of white gaiters. He was upright, trim, and perfectly determined.
Jack noted that his clothes looked a little emptier than usual--that was
all.

"Well," said the father, "I suppose we both made fools of ourselves last
night."

"I have not yet seen you do that," replied the son, laying aside the
morning paper which he had been reading.

Sir John smiled grimly. He hoped that Jack was right.

"Well," he added, "let us call it a difference of opinion."

"Yes."