"Oh, that's my godfather, Sir Leopold Fischer. He always comes on Boxing Day."
In front of the large hall fire, over which hung the colonel's sword, the process was completed and the company, including the saturnine Crook, presented to Sir Leopold Fischer. That venerable financier, however, still seemed struggling with portions of his well-lined attire, and at length produced from a very interior tail-coat pocket, a black oval case which he radiantly explained to be his Christmas present for his god-daughter.
"I'll put 'em back now, my dear," said Fischer, returning the case to the tails of his coat.
"Not on mine, please," said Sir Leopold Fischer, with dignity.
Dislike of the red-tied youth, born of his predatory opinions and evident intimacy with the pretty godchild, led Fischer to say, in his most sarcastic, magisterial manner: "No doubt you have found something much lower than sitting on a top hat.
He even essayed to put the paper donkey's tail to the coat-tails of Sir Leopold Fischer. This, however, was frowned down.
Sir Leopold Fischer was leaning against the mantelpiece and heaving with all the importance of panic.
"Nothing of the sort shall be suggested," said Colonel Adams, with a firm look at Fischer, which rather implied that some such thing had been suggested.
"She has lately," cried out old Fischer, "opened her father's house to a cut-throat Socialist, who says openly he would steal anything from a richer man.
It was cleverer to have marked down the Flying Stars and the very day of Fischer's coming.