My name is Morris Monk, and I am the son of Colonel Monk, and live at the Abbey House, Monksland.

Now you know all about me." "Oh! of course I do, Mr.Monk," she said in some confusion, "how foolish of me not to guess.

You are my father's principal new parishioner, of whom Mr.Tomley gave us a full description." "Did he indeed?
What did he say ?" he asked idly.
"Do you really want to know, Mr.Monk ?" "Yes, if it is amusing.

Just now I shall be grateful for anything that can divert my thoughts." "And you will promise not to bear malice against Mr.Tomley ?" "Certainly, especially as he has gone away, and I don't expect to see him any more." "Well, he described your father, Colonel Monk, as a handsome and distinguished elderly gentleman of very good birth, and manners, too, when he chose, who intensely disliked growing old.

He said that he thought of himself more than of anybody else in the world, and next of the welfare of his family, and that if we wished to get on with him we must be careful not to offend his dignity, as then he would be quarrelsome." "That's true enough, or most of it," answered Morris, "a good picture of my father's weak side.