p a gentleman's dinner waiting--these low fellows."

I suppose this referred only to the culprits outside; at all events, we
chose to take it so.

"Now--you, sir--perhaps you'll despatch your business; the sooner the
better."

"It will not take long. It is a mere matter of form, which
nevertheless I felt it my duty to be the first to inform you. Mr.
Brithwood, I have the honour of bearing a message to you from your
cousin--Miss Ursula March."

"She's nothing to me--I never wish to see her face again, the--the
vixen!"

"You will be kind enough, if you please, to avoid all such epithets; at
least, in my hearing."

"Your hearing! And pray who are you, sir?"

"You know quite well who I am."

"Oh, yes! And how goes the tanning? Any offers in the horseflesh
line? Always happy to meet you in the way of business. But what can
you possibly have to do with me, or with any member of my family?"

John bit his lip; the 'squire's manner was extremely galling; more so,
perhaps, in its outside civility than any gross rudeness.

"Mr. Brithwood, I was not speaking of myself, but of the lady whose
message I have the honour to bring you."

"That lady, sir, has chosen to put herself away from her family, and
her family can hold no further intercourse with her," said the 'squire,
loftily.

"I am aware of that," was the reply, with at least equal hauteur.

"Are you? And pray what right may you have to be acquainted with Miss
March's private concerns?"

"The right--which, indeed, was the purport of her message to you--that
in a few months I shall become her husband."

John said this very quietly--so quietly that, at first, the 'squire
seemed hardly to credit his senses. At last, he burst into a hoarse
laugh.

"Well, that is the best joke I ever did hear."

"Pardon me; I am perfectly serious."

"Bah! how much money do you want, fellow? A pretty tale! you'll not
get me to believe it--ha! ha! She wouldn't be so mad. To be sure,
women have their fancies, as we know, and you're a likely young fellow
enough; but to marry you--"

John sprang up--his whole frame quivering with fury. "Take care, sir;
take care how you insult my WIFE!"

He stood over the wretch--the cowardly shrinking wretch--he did not
touch him, but he stood over him till, terrified out of his life,
Richard Brithwood gasped out some apology.

"Sit down--pray sit down again. Let us proceed in our business."

John Halifax sat down.

"So--my