The vicar raised his hand laughingly.
"Three hundred feet above sea level," he smiled, "yes, I know all about the advertised glories of Brockley—but really?"
Again they looked at each other.
"Shall I?" asked the Duke.
"Ye-es," hesitated Hank; "you'd better."
The young man sighed.
"Have you ever been a duke on a ranch," he asked innocently, "a cattle punching duke, rounding in, branding, roping and earmarking cattle—no? I thought not. Have you ever been a duke prospecting silver or searching for diamonds in the bad lands of Brazil?"
"That's got him," said Hank in a stage whisper.
The vicar waited.
"Have you ever been a duke under conditions and in circumstances where you were addressed by your title in much the same way as you call your gardener 'Jim'?"