It was a telling question. If Dicky could clothe such an uncompromising fact as Percy Welwyn in a garment of romance, he was capable of making a success of any marriage. Mr. Carmyle waited grimly for his answer.
"Ah--Percy!" replied Dicky thoughtfully. "Yes, Tiny, old soul, that's a sound question. Well, Percy is n't exactly polished--in fact, one might almost be forgiven for describing him as a holy terror--"
"He wants losing," said Carmyle with conviction.
"But listen," pursued Dicky. "Percy may be all we say, but he cheerfully hands over half his weekly screw, which is n't a fabulous one, to the common fund of the Family. It is not every young man who would do that, especially such a social success as Percy. Oh, yes, Connie, he is a social success; so don't look incredulous. I tell you he is a regular Apollo at shilling hops. He took me to one a few weeks ago."
"Where?" asked Connie.
"Somewhere near Kennington Oval. The girls simply swarmed over him. But he is not in the least stuck up about it; and--well, he is kind to Tilly. I am, therefore," concluded Dicky stoutly, "an upholder of Percy."
Mr. Carmyle, encouraged by the silence of his wife, felt emboldened to continue his cross-examination.
"What about mother-in-law?" he queried.
It was a foolish question.
"She is a woman in a thousand," said Dicky promptly, and Mrs. Carmyle, with a withering side-glance at her unfortunate lord, nodded her head vigorously in affirmation.