ravesty, and a whole heap of other
things I haven't, as yet had time to look up in the dictionary. And I
think--I think you call yourself an English gentleman? Well, all I have
to say is God pity England if her gentlemen are of your stamp! There
isn't a costermonger in all Whitechapel who would dare talk to me as
you've done! I would like to snatch you bald-headed, I would like to
kill you--And do you think, now, if you were the very last man left in
all the _world_ that I would--No, don't you try to answer me, for I
don't wish to hear a single word you have to say. Oh, oh! how _dare_
you!"

"Well, I've had provocation enough," the man's voice retorted, sullenly.
"Perhaps, I have cut up a bit rough, Patricia, but, then, you've been
talkin' like a fool, you know. But what's the odds? Let's kiss and make
up, old girl."

"Don't touch me!" she panted; "ah, don't you _dare!_"

"You little devil! you infernal little vixen? You'll jilt me, will you?"

"Let me go!" the girl cried, sharply. Rudolph Musgrave went into the
summer-house.

The man Colonel Musgrave found there was big and loose-jointed, with
traces of puffiness about his face. He had wheat-colored hair and
weakish-looking, pale blue eyes. One of his arms was about Miss
Stapylton, but he released her now, and blinked at Rudolph Musgrave.

"And who are you, pray?" he demanded, querulously. "What do you want,
anyhow? What do you mean by sneakin' in here and tappin' on a fellow's
shoulder--like a damn' woodpecker, by Jove! I don't know you."

There was in Colonel Musgrave's voice a curious tremor, when he spoke;
but to the eye he was unruffled, even faintly amused.

"I am the owner of this garden," he enunciated, with leisurely
distinctness, "and it is not my custom to permit gentlewomen to be
insulted in it. So I am afraid I must ask you to leave it."

"Now, see here," the man blustered, weakly, "we don't want any heroics,
you know. See here, you're her cousin, ain't you? By God, I'll leave it
to you, you know! She's treated me badly, don't you understand. She's a
jilt, you know. She's playin' fast and loose----"

He never got any further, for at this point Rudolph Musgrave took him by
the coat-collar and half-dragged, half-pushed him through the garden,
shaking him occasionally with a quiet emphasis. The colonel was angry,
and it was a matter of utter indifference to him that they were
trampling over flower-beds, and leaving havoc in their rear.

But when