es to
the county court house once or twice."

"Louis! Are you against me too?"--in a voice vibrating with reproach and
self-pity.

"Now, look here, William Van Beuren; your guests _did_ shoot woodcock on
Mrs. Ascott's land--"

"They're migratory birds, confound it!"

"--And," continued Malcourt, paying no attention to the interruption,
"you did build that fool dam regardless of my advice; and you first left
her cattle waterless, then drowned her sheep--"

"That was a cloud-burst--an act of God--"

"It was a dam-burst, and the act of an obstinate chump!"

"Louis, I won't let anybody talk to me like that!"

"But you've just _done_ it, William."

Portlaw, in a miniature fury, began to run around in little circles,
puffing threats which, however, he was cautious enough to make obscure;
winding up with:

"And I might as well take this opportunity to ask you what you mean by
calmly going off to town every ten days or so and absenting yourself
without a word of--"

"Oh, bosh," said Malcourt; "if you don't want me here, Billy, say so and
be done with it."

"I didn't say I didn't want you--"

"Well, then, let me alone. I don't neglect your business and I don't
intend to neglect my own. If the time comes when I can't attend to both
I'll let you know soon enough--perhaps sooner than you expect."

"You're perfectly welcome to go to town," insisted Portlaw, alarmed.

"I know it," nodded Malcourt coolly. "Now, if you'll take my advice
you'll behave less like a pig in this Ascott matter."

"I'm going to fight that suit--"

"Certainly fight it. But not the way you're planning."

"Well--how, then?"

"Go and see the little lady."

"See _her_? She wouldn't receive me."

"Probably not. That's unimportant. For heaven's sake, Portlaw, you're
becoming chuckle-headed with all your feeding and inertia and pampered
self-indulgence. You're the limit!--with your thirty-eight-inch girth
and your twin chins and baby wrists! You know, it's pitiable when I
think what a clean-cut, decent-looking, decently set-up fellow you were
only two years ago!--it's enough to make a cat sick!"

"Can I help what I look like!" bellowed Portlaw wrathfully.

"What an idiot question!" said Malcourt with weary patience. "All you've
got to do is to cuddle yourself less, and go out into the fresh air on
your ridiculous legs--"

"Ridiculous!" gasped the other. "Well, I'm damned if I stand _that_--!"

"You won't be able to stand at all if you