“Yes, sir. The candles are burning low, sir. Shall I remove the shades?”
“Fountain!”
“Sir?”
“How long have you been with me?”
Fountain stared at his master. Very old, Fountain was. “Why, sir, I was with your father! I’ve known you ever since you was born—as you know as well as I do, sir, if I may say so.”
“Ah! But did you ever know, Fountain, that I had been married twice? And that my first wife had divorced me?”
Fountain lost patience. He said severely: “I never seen you like this before, sir. Not all these years. I don’t know what you are talking about, that I don’t. You married twice! Once was enough for you, sir, if you will permit an old man the liberty. And you divorced! I never heard of such a thing! I’d like to see the woman fit to divorce a Lapwing, that I would! I never heard of such a thing.”
“Ah,” said Mr. Lapwing. “Well, have it your own way, Fountain. But it made such a thundering good story that I was near believing it myself. All in a good cause, Fountain: to teach that boy a thing or two. One likes to see children happy, Fountain. And his mother won’t mind, not she. A good sensible woman she was, if on the plain side. And, d’you remember, Fountain, she always wanted a drop of romance in her life? Well, she’s got it now, poor dear. But her son will appreciate it for her, won’t he? And just give me another drop of that brandy, will you? That’s very fine brandy, that is.”
“The bottle,” said Fountain bitterly, “is empty, sir.”
“Drat that boy!” said Mr. Lapwing. “Comes here looking for romance and laps up all my brandy!”