“Arthur!” Eve warned him.  “If you eat any of that caviare you’re bound to be ill.”

“Not if I mix it with pate de foi gras, my pet.  It is notorious that they are mutual antidotes, especially when followed by the grape cure.  Now, ladies and Ozzie, don’t exasperate me by being coy.  Fall to!  Ingurgitate.  Ozzie, be a man for a change.”  Mr. Prohack seemed to intimidate everybody to such an extent that Sissie herself went off to secure tumblers.

“But why are you opening another bottle, father?” she asked in alarm on her return.  “This one isn’t half empty.”

“We shall try all four brands,” said Mr. Prohack.

“But what a waste!”

“Know, my child,” said Mr. Prohack, with marked and solemn sententiousness.  “Know that in an elaborately organised society, waste has its moral uses.  Know further that nothing is more contrary to the truth than the proverb that enough is as good as a feast.  Know still further that though the habit of wastefulness may have its dangers, it is not nearly so dangerous as the habit of self-righteousness, or as the habit of nearness, both of which contract the soul until it’s more like a prune than a plum.  Be a plum, my child, and let who will be a prune.”

It was at this moment that Eve showed her true greatness.

“Come along, Sissie,” said she, after an assaying glance at her husband and another at her daughter.  “Let’s humour him.  It isn’t often he’s in such good spirits, is it?”

Sissie’s face cleared, and with a wisdom really beyond her years she accepted the situation, the insult, the reproof, the lesson.  As for Mr. Prohack, he felt happier, more gay, than he had felt all day,—­not as the effect of champagne and caviare, but as the effect of the realisation of his prodigious sagacity in having foreseen that Sissie’s hospitality would be what it had been.  He was glad also that his daughter had displayed commonsense, and he began to admire her again, and in proportion as she perceived that he was admiring her, so she consciously increased her charm; for the fact was, she was very young, very impressionable, very anxious to do the right thing.

“Have another glass, Ozzie,” urged Mr. Prohack.

Ozzie looked at his powerful bride for guidance.

“Do have another glass, you darling old silly,” said the bride.

“There will be no need to open the other two bottles,” said Mr. Prohack.  “Indeed, I need only have opened one....  I shall probably call here again soon.”

At this point there was another ring at the front-door.

“So you’ve condescended!” Sissie greeted Charles when Ozzie brought him into the room, and then, catching her father’s eye and being anxious to rest secure in the paternal admiration, she added:  “Anyway it was very decent of you to come.  I know how busy you are.”

Charles raised his eyebrows at this astonishing piece of sisterliness.  His mother kissed him fondly, having received from Mr. Prohack during the day the delicatest, filmiest hint that perhaps Charlie was not at the moment fabulously prospering.