granddaughter two years ago
when she was bound to Rule Rothsay. Now that she is a widow and is free,
I accepted your suit and bestowed her on you, not that I like dukes any
better now than I did then, but I like you better as a man."

The young duke bowed with solemn gravity at this compliment, repressing
the smile that fluttered about his lips. At this moment a waiter entered
the room, and said that "the gentleman's" servant had arrived with his
master's luggage, and requested to know where it was to be put.

"Tell him to get his dinner, and then take the luggage in the same
carriage to the station," said the duke, and the messenger withdrew.

"Have you lunched, duke?" inquired Mr. Rockharrt, mindful, even in his
rage, of his duties as a host.

"I have not thought of doing so," replied the young man.

"Umph! I suppose not!" grunted the Iron King, as he rang the bell.

A waiter appeared.

"Any game in the house?"

"Yes, sir; fine venison."

"Don't want venison--had it for breakfast. Anything else?"

"A very fine wild turkey, sir."

"Bother! Takes three hours to dress, and I want a hot lunch got up in
twenty-five minutes, at longest. Any small game?"

"Uncommon fine partridges, sir."

"Then have a dozen dressed and sent up, with proper accompaniments; and
lose no time about it! Also put a bottle of Johannisberg on ice."

"Yes, sir."

The waiter vanished.

"I must bid you good-by now, Mr. Rockharrt," said the duke, rising.

"No; you must not. Sit down. Sit down. You must lunch with me, and drink
a parting glass of wine. Then you will have plenty of time to secure
your train, and I to drive to Rockhold at my usual hour. Say no more,
duke. Keep your seat."

Cumbervale looked at the iron-gray man before him, thought certainly
this must be their last meeting and parting on earth, and that therefore
he would not cross the patriarch in his humor.

"You are very kind. Thank you. I will break a parting bottle of wine
with you willingly."

In double-quick time the broiled partridges were served, the wine
placed, and all was ready for the two men.

"Go and tell Mr. Fabian and Mr. Clarence that I wish them to come here.
You will find them somewhere in the house," said Mr. Rockharrt.

"Beg pardon, sir; both gentlemen have gone over to the works," replied
the waiter.

This was true. Both "boys" had gorged themselves with cold ham, bread
and cheese, washed down with quarts of brown stout, and were in no
a