“When I’m with father,” said Bill, “I sort of lose my nerve, and yammer.”

“Dashed awkward,” said Archie, politely.  He sat up suddenly.  “I say!  By Jove!  I know what you want, old friend!  Just thought of it!”

“That busy brain is never still,” explained Lucille.

“Saw it in the paper this morning.  An advertisement of a book, don’t you know.”

“I’ve no time for reading.”

“You’ve time for reading this one, laddie, for you can’t afford to miss it.  It’s a what-d’you-call-it book.  What I mean to say is, if you read it and take its tips to heart, it guarantees to make you a convincing talker.  The advertisement says so.  The advertisement’s all about a chappie I whose name I forget, whom everybody loved because he talked so well.  And, mark you, before he got hold of this book—­The Personality That Wins was the name of it, if I remember rightly—­he was known to all the lads in the office as Silent Samuel or something.  Or it may have been Tongue-Tied Thomas.  Well, one day he happened by good luck to blow in the necessary for the good old P. that W.’s, and now, whenever they want someone to go and talk Rockefeller or someone into lending them a million or so, they send for Samuel.  Only now they call him Sammy the Spell-Binder and fawn upon him pretty copiously and all that.  How about it, old son?  How do we go?”

“What perfect nonsense,” said Lucille.

“I don’t know,” said Bill, plainly impressed.  “There might be something in it.”

“Absolutely!” said Archie.  “I remember it said, ’Talk convincingly, and no man will ever treat you with cold, unresponsive indifference.’  Well, cold, unresponsive indifference is just what you don’t want the pater to treat you with, isn’t it, or is it, or isn’t it, what?  I mean, what?”

“It sounds all right,” said Bill.

“It is all right,” said Archie.  “It’s a scheme!  I’ll go farther.  It’s an egg!”

“The idea I had,” said Bill, “was to see if I couldn’t get Mabel a job in some straight comedy.  That would take the curse off the thing a bit.  Then I wouldn’t have to dwell on the chorus end of the business, you see.”

“Much more sensible,” said Lucille.

“But what a-deuce of a sweat”—­argued Archie.  “I mean to say, having to pop round and nose about and all that.”

“Aren’t you willing to take a little trouble for your stricken brother-in-law, worm?” said Lucille severely.

“Oh, absolutely!  My idea was to get this book and coach the dear old chap.  Rehearse him, don’t you know.  He could bone up the early chapters a bit and then drift round and try his convincing talk on me.”

“It might be a good idea,” said Bill reflectively.

“Well, I’ll tell you what I’m going to do,” said Lucille.  “I’m going to get Bill to introduce me to his Mabel, and, if she’s as nice as he says she is, I’ll go to father and talk convincingly to him.”