The Osbornes by E.F. Benson — Read

The question of the title had at length been settled: the simplest solution was felt to be the best; and Mrs. Osborne need not have felt so strange at the thought of changing her name, for she only changed the "Mrs. " into "Lady. " The eminently respectable name of Osborne, after all, was associated, as seen on the labels in the fish market at Venice, with the idea of hardware all the world over, a thing which Mr. Osborne had been anxious to "bring in," and, at the same time, it had a faintly territorial sound. Lady Osborne, however, was a little disappointed; she would so much have enjoyed the necessity of getting quantities of table linen with the new initial worked on it. As it was, it was only necessary to have a coronet placed above it.

Indeed, within a week coronets blossomed everywhere, with the suddenness of the coming of spring in the South -- on the silver, on the hot-water cans, on writing paper and envelopes, on the panels of carriages and cars, and an enormous one, cut solid in limestone (the delivery of which seriously impeded for a while the traffic in Park Lane), was hoisted into its appropriate niche above the front door of No. 92 by the aid of a gang of perspiring workmen and a small steam crane. It had been a smart morning's work, so said Lord Osborne, who looked out from the Gothic windows of his snuggery every now and then to see how it was getting on; and it became even smarter in the afternoon when gold-leaf had been thickly laid on it.