"I know so little about my father," he said again.

"And yet the world knows so much," remarked Howard, throwing open his
waterproof and basking in the sun which shone as warmly and
unreservedly as if it had never heard of such a thing as rain. "One
can't take up the paper without seeing some mention of Sir Stephen
Orme's great name. One day he is in Paris negotiating a state loan;
another you read he is annexing, appropriating, or whatever you call
it, a vast tract in Africa or Asia; on the third you are informed with
all solemnity that he has become director of a new bank, insurance
company, or one of those vast concerns in which only Rothschilds and
Barings can disport themselves. Now and again you are informed that Sir
Stephen Orme has been requested to stand for an important constituency,
but that he was compelled to decline because of the pressure of his
numerous affairs. There may be a more famous and important individual
in the world than your father, my dear Stafford, but I can't call him
to mind at this moment."

"Chaff away," said Stafford, good-humouredly. "At any rate, he has been
a jolly liberal father to me. Did I tell you that just before he came
home be placed a largish sum at his bank for me; I mean over and above
my allowance?"

"You didn't tell me, but I'm not at all surprised," responded Howard.
"A truly wonderful father, and a model to all other parents. Would that
I possessed such a one. You don't remember your mother, Stafford?"

The young fellow's handsome face softened for an instant; and his voice
was low and grave as he replied: