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Rh that evening, had a chat over the events of the day. Richard's room opened into the Consul's, and notwithstanding that his habit of smoking cigarettes was an abomination to his brother, the door between the rooms always remained open at night. Each had his own particular method of undressing. The Consul took off each garment in due order, folded it up, and laid it in its appointed place. Richard, on the other hand, tore off his things and threw them about anyhow. He then wrapped himself in his dressing gown, and sat down and smoked till his brother was ready.

"He is the very devil, that Worse!" said the attaché, leaning back in the armchair; "but it does me good to hear any one speak out his mind so plainly."

"He is too violent; he forgets conventionalities."

"It is possible to have too much conventionality. It is well for young people to air their views; it does them good."

"What nonsense you are talking, Dick!" cried the Consul, entering his brother's room. "What the deuce would become of the world if youngsters were allowed to jabber like that on every possible occasion?"

But Uncle Richard was not nervous when they were téte-à-téte. He got slowly up from his chair, and let his dressing-gown slip off his shoulders; and the two brothers now stood opposite each other, in very different déshabille. The young Consul was in his night-shirt, and a pair of flannel drawers tied at the knees with broad tape. His thin legs were thrust into long grey stockings, which Miss Cordsen alone knew