“I am perhaps misunderstood,” he sighed, “perhaps have acquired a reputation for greater callousness than I possess.  Personally, I love fighting.  I was born a fighter, and I should find no happier way of ending my life than fighting, but, to put it bluntly, fighting is a man’s job.”

“What about women going to see fights at the National Sporting Club?” Lady Cynthia asked curiously.

“It is their own affair, but if you ask my opinion I do not approve of it,” Sir Timothy replied.  “I am indifferent upon the subject, because I am indifferent upon the subject of the generality of your sex,” he added, with a little smile, “but I simply hold that it is not a taste which should be developed in women, and if they do develop it, it is at the expense of those very qualities which make them most attractive.”

Lady Cynthia took a cigarette from her case and leaned over to Francis for a light.

“The world is changing,” she declared.  “I cannot bear many more shocks.  I fancied that I had written myself for ever out of Sir Timothy’s good books because of my confession just now.”

He smiled across at her.  His words were words of courteous badinage, but Lady Cynthia was conscious of a strange little sense of pleasure.

“On the contrary,” he assured her, “you found your way just a little further into my heart.”

“It seems to me, in a general sort of way,” Margaret observed, leaning back in her chair, “that you and my father are becoming extraordinarily friendly, Cynthia.”

“I am hopefully in love with your father,” Lady Cynthia confessed.  “It has been coming on for a long time.  I suspected it the first time I ever met him.  Now I am absolutely certain.”

“It’s quite a new idea,” Margaret remarked.  “Shall we like her in the family, Francis?”

“No airs!” Lady Cynthia warned her.  “You two are not properly engaged yet.  It may devolve upon me to give my consent.”

“In that case,” Francis replied, “I hope that we may at least count upon your influence with Sir Timothy?”

“If you’ll return the compliment and urge my suit with him,” Lady Cynthia laughed.  “I am afraid he can’t quite make up his mind about me, and I am so nice.  I haven’t flirted nearly so much as people think, and my instincts are really quite domestic.”

“My position,” Sir Timothy remarked, as he made an unsuccessful attempt to possess himself of the bill which Francis had called for, “is becoming a little difficult.”

“Not really difficult,” Lady Cynthia objected, “because the real decision rests in your hands.”

“Just listen to the woman!” Margaret exclaimed.  “Do you realise, father, that Cynthia is making the most brazen advances to you?  And I was going to ask her if she’d like to come back to The Sanctuary with us this evening!”

Lady Cynthia was suddenly eager.  Margaret glanced across at her father.  Sir Timothy seemed almost imperceptibly to stiffen a little.