Basingstoke

Mr. Basingstoke was one of those persons whom their friends call thorough; their enemies say that they carry everything too far.

Then a wave of possibilities and impossibilities rose suddenly and swept against Mr. Basingstoke's heart.

To Mr. Basingstoke's old nurse the world seemed to hold nothing fairer than the lace collar and the violet-silk necktie.

Mr. Basingstoke counted on every one's having at least one relation or friend bearing that commonest and most lovely of all names.

By such simple means Mr. Basingstoke added enormously to his own agreeable sensations.