The elder Mrs Ottley was a sweet woman, with a resigned smile and a
sense of humour. She had a great admiration for Edith, who was very fond
of her. No-one else was there on this occasion. Bruce always complained
equally, regarding it as a slight if they were asked alone, and a bore
if it was a dinner party. The elder Mr Ottley was considerably older
than his wife, and was a handsome, clean-shaven elderly man with a
hooked nose and a dry manner. The conversation at dinner consisted of
vague attempts on Bruce's part to talk airy generalities, which were
always brought back by his father to personalities more or less
unflattering to Bruce.

Edith and Mrs Ottley, fearing an explosion, which happened rather
frequently when Bruce and his father were together, combined their
united energy to ward it off.

'And what do you intend the boy to be when he grows up?' asked old Mr
Ottley. 'Are you going to make him a useful member of society, or a
Foreign Office clerk?'

'I intend my son,' said Bruce--'(a little port, please. Thanks.)--I
intend my son to be a Man of the World.'

His father gave a slight snort.

'Be very careful,' said Mrs Ottley to Edith, 'not to let the darling
catch cold in his perambulator this weather. Spring is so treacherous!'

'Does he seem to show any particular bent for anything? I suppose
hardly--yet?'