Youth has the upper hand in these cases, for life is a larger thing when we are young.

As we get on in years, our eggs, to use a homely simile, have a way of accumulating into one basket.
At eleven o'clock the next morning Sir John Meredith's valet intimated to his master that Mr.Meredith was waiting in the breakfast-room.

Sir John was in the midst of his toilet--a complicated affair, which, like other works of art, would not bear contemplation when incomplete.
"Tell him," said the uncompromising old gentleman, "that I will come down when I am ready." He made a more careful toilet than usual, and finally came down in a gay tweed suit, of which the general effect was distinctly heightened by a pair of white gaiters.

He was upright, trim, and perfectly determined.
Jack noted that his clothes looked a little emptier than usual--that was all.
"Well," said the father, "I suppose we both made fools of ourselves last night." "I have not yet seen you do that," replied the son, laying aside the morning paper which he had been reading.
Sir John smiled grimly.

He hoped that Jack was right.
"Well," he added, "let us call it a difference of opinion." "Yes." Something in the monosyllable made the old gentleman's lips twitch nervously.
"I may mention," he said, with a dangerous suavity, "that I still hold to my opinion." Jack Meredith rose, without haste.