“That’s right,” he said, “laugh at me. Regular old gander ain’t I. Never mind: you come down and see if the two young tyrants don’t soon take you about in chains.”
“Daisy chains?” I said, laughing.
“Yes, if you like,” he said; “but they are chains you can’t break. Ah!” he continued, as he thoughtfully stirred the cup of tea I had had made for him, “it only seems but yesterday that I went home and said to Cobweb, ‘I’ve found the place, my dear.’
“‘You have papa?’ she said.
“‘I have.’
“‘Not a dreadful detached villa or cottage ornée, papa?’
“‘Oh, no.’
“‘With admirably planned kitchen and flower gardens?’
“‘No,’ said I, laughing.
“‘With an extensive view of the Surrey Hills?’