"All right," he said. "Confer the title."
Mr. Welwyn turned to his wife.
"What do you say to 'Howard,' Mother?" he asked.
"Nothing with an H in front of it for me, dearie, if you please," announced Mrs. Welwyn firmly. "I can see enough rocks of that kind ahead of me this afternoon as it is."
"Why not 'Russell'?" suggested Amelia. "Russell Square, you know."
Mrs. Welwyn stroked her resourceful little daughter's hair gratefully.
"That will do finely," she said. "You are Russell," she announced briefly to Mr. Stillbottle.
The newly christened infant acquiesced listlessly, and rose from the sofa.
"Now I must tear myself away," he said, "to don me trunks and 'ose and get up this patter. I'm a slow study. No promptin', I presume?"
"No," said Mr. Welwyn.