"Well, you've got a baronet for a father now, my girl"--to be accurate
he called it a "bart."--he said puffing himself out like a great toad
before the fire, as he threw down the /Daily News/ in which his name
was icily ignored in a spiteful leaderette about the Honours List,
upon the top of /The Times/, /The Standard/, and /The Morning Post/.

"Oh!" said Isobel in an interested voice and paused.

"It's wonderful what money can do," went on her father, who was
inclined for a discussion, and saw no other way of opening up the
subject. "Certain qualifications of which it does not become me to
speak, and a good subscription to the Party funds, and there you are
with Bart. instead of Esq. after your name and Sir before it. I wonder
when I shall get the Patent? You know baronets do not receive the
accolade."

"Don't they?" commented Isobel. "Well, that saves the Queen some
trouble of which she must be glad as she does not get the
subscription. I know all about the accolade," she added; "for Godfrey
has told me. Only the other day he was showing me in the Abbey Church
where the warriors who were to receive it, knelt all night before the
altar. But they didn't give subscriptions, they prayed and afterwards
took a cold bath."

"Times are changed," he answered.

"Yes, of course. I can't see /you/ kneeling all night with a white
robe on, Father, in prayer before an altar. But tell me, would they
have made you a baronet if you hadn't given the subscription?"