He came home and looked out his history in the Peerage: he introduced his name into his daily conversation; he bragged about his Lordship to his daughters.

He fell down prostrate and basked in him as a Neapolitan beggar does in the sun.

George was alarmed when he heard the names.

He feared his father might have been informed of certain transactions at play.

But the old moralist eased him by saying serenely: "Well, well, young men will be young men.