“He is strangely susceptible to mature women,” Prudence warned her mother. “You will want to stay out of his way when I am not about to protect you.” Mrs. Mallow laughed self-consciously, still wondering how her little daughter had managed to make herself so free with this lord, of whom she remained in awe.

“Prudence Merriman,” Clarence repeated. “Well named on both accounts.”

“Another name to live up to,” Prudence said with a sigh.

“And a title,” her uncle said. “A real title, not like Seville’s old foreign handle, eh, Nevvie?” he added to Dammler, whose eyes enlarged visibly at this familiarity. “You don’t mind my practicing up the term? It will take a little getting used to.”

The frequency with which it was soon repeated led the Marquis to believe his new uncle would have less difficulty mastering it than he feared.

“I shall do a wedding portrait of the pair of you," Clarence promised. “I have been wanting to get you on canvas a long while, Nevvie. But I am very busy. We all are. It is a good time for us. Lawrence, I read, is doing the Prince of Wales and his brothers and I have had the whole Chiltern family to do, five girls and two boys, each with a squint to be got rid of; but I have no trouble with that sort of thing. No trouble at all. Lawrence, I daresay, will give the whole Royal Family a broader form than he ought. But I will do you and my niece up nicely. You needn’t worry; I will put that quirk in your eyebrow. I will just lower it a fraction of an inch and you will not look deformed at all.”

Prudence opened her mouth to protest, but Dammler silenced her with a glance. “Can you do anything at all to make my wife look less hagged, Uncle?” he asked in a playful spirit.

“Ho, you are practicing, too, I see. My wife-very good, Nevvie. And Uncle-you will get on to it in no time. Yes, I will make my niece look as good as new or better. Well, well. I am not much of a one for writing letters, but I think this calls for a note to Mrs. Hering and Sir Alfred. They will want to hear that it is settled.” He arose and said to his sister, “Come with me, Wilma. We may leave these two alone a minute. Prudence, you know, always lives up to her name.”

They left, and Dammler turned to his bride. “Uncle is an original, isn’t he?”

“When we cease to live up to our jolly name, we can always have him to Longbourne Abbey to tease us. He has been good to me, Dammler, I hope you have not taken him in dislike…”

“Dislike?I adore him. He is half the reason I am marrying you. Come now, Prue, don’t laugh at me. If you were a natural girl at all you would be demanding to know what is the other half.”

“I’m afraid you’d tell me.”

“Iwill anyway. I never know when to hold my tongue. I shall need an amanuensis when I do some serious work. In fact, I’ll break you in on my play for Drury Lane. No, seriously…“

“Now Allan Merri man,you too must live up to your name. Don’t turn serious on me.”

“But I want to tell you the other half a reason. I love you, Prudence.”

“If you ever stop, I’ll spill ink all over your manuscripts. You see how conniving and managing I mean to be. I’ll keep you under cat’s paw.”

“The very way to deal with me. Prudent. You are well-named.”