"Well, there seem to be so many sorts now," daddy replied, serenely. "You don＇t look as if you had been sick, anyway, Lord Warburton."
"He＇s sick of life; he was just telling me so; going on fearfully about it," said Lord Warburton＇s friend.
"Is that true, sir?" asked the old man gravely.
"If it is, your son gave me no consolation. He＇s a wretched fellow to talk to—a regular cynic. He doesn＇t seem to believe in anything."