“You served me the shabbiest trick, Sale, and by God, you shall answer for it! You’re a damned dog in the manager, sir! You did not want the girl yourself, but you could not bear that anyone else should have her! So you—”

“On the contrary, I have given her into the care of the one man alive who does truly want her!” retorted the Duke.

“Don’t try to bamboozle me with that tale! I make no doubt you have her hidden away somewhere!” said the Viscount furiously. “Where is she?”

“Oh, in the arms of that Somerset bumpkin, of course!”

The Viscount stared at him suspiciously. “She is, is she? I should like to know who the devil gave you the right to meddle in my affairs!”

“I do not care a button for your affairs,” replied the Duke. “It was Belinda’s affairs that were my concern. You knew the truth, for Harriet told you it! How dared you, Gaywood, try to seduce a girl under my protection?”

“Seduce her! That’s a loud one!” ejaculated his lordship with a short bark of laughter. “Much you know of it! Why, she fell into my hand as readily as any ripe plum!”

A gleam of amusement shone in the Duke’s eyes. “Did she so?” he said dryly. “But not so readily, I fancy, that she could be persuaded to go with you until she had sent you running up Milsom Street in search of a purple gown!”

The wanton provocation of this remark made Gideon open his eyes a little, and caused the smouldering flames of the Viscount’s wrath to leap up again. He flushed hotly, and almost audibly ground his teeth.

“You’ll answer to me for what you have done this day, my lord Duke!” he said. “Name your friends! They shall hear from mine!”

Gideon moved suddenly, as though again he would have stepped between them. The Duke flung out a hand. “Be quiet! Do you imagine I stand in need of abodyguard? So you would like to call me out, Gaywood! Famous!”

“You dare not refuse to give me satisfaction!” Gaywood declared.

“Satisfaction! You fool, if I went out with you, much satisfaction you would get from the encounter! I own, there was a moment today when I would willingly have met you, yes, and have put a bullet through you! Had you not been Harriet’s brother—But you are her brother, and though you may forget it I shall not!”

“I’m not afraid of your damned marksmanship,” said Gaywood, white with anger. “You’ll accept my challenge, Sale!”

“He will not meet you,” Gideon interposed. “No one but a madman like yourself would expect it of him!”

“Who made you my spokesman?” demanded the Duke. “I’ll meet you, Gaywood, and I will tell you just what will happen at that meeting! We shall fire at twenty-five paces, I in the air, you where you please!”

The Viscount appeared to fight for breath. “Delope? You would not! Why, I might kill you!”

“You are welcome to try!” retorted the Duke.

“I hardly dare to open my mouth,” drawled Gideon, “but there is much in what he says, Gaywood. I don’t reckon myself a mean shot, but I would think twice before I engaged in pistol-play with Sale. And you won’t hit him, you know. He is such a little fellow, and you are such a damnably bad shot!”

What the infuriated Viscount might have been goaded into replying to this was never known, for at that moment Tom bounced into the room, in an extremely muddied condition, and announced that he had been helping to dig out a badger. He then caught sight of Gaywood, and exclaimed: “Oh, Mr. Rufford, that’s the beau that ran off with Belinda! Did you know?”

“I thought as much!” said the Viscount, grasping Tom by the collar, and shaking him viciously. “Not content with the rest, you must needs set this whelp of yours to bubble me, Sale! By God, you might at least—”

“He did not!” interrupted Tom, struggling to free himself. “I thought of it myself, and I’m glad I hoaxed you, and I’ll do it again if ever I have the chance!”

“Gaywood, let that boy go!” the Duke said, grasping the Viscount’s wrist. “Your quarrel is with me, not with a schoolboy!”

“No, it ain’t!” declared Tom, twisting himself out of the Viscount’s slackened grip, and squaring up to him purposefully. “You’ll have to settle with me before you touch my Mr. Rufford!”

“That’s the spirit, bantam!” approved Gideon, much entertained. “No flourishing, now! Let’s see some of the homebrewed!”

“For God’s sake, Gideon, will you be quiet?” said the Duke, half laughing, half exasperated. “Tom, go and make yourself tidy! You cannot start a mill in my library!”

“I’m not afraid, if he is!” said Tom, observing with disgust the Viscount’s strategic retreat behind a chair.

“Hey, what’s all this?” suddenly demanded Mr. Mamble’s voice from the doorway. “What’s he been doing, your Grace? I’ll teach him!”

“Nothing!” replied the Duke, struggling not to break into the mirth that was consuming him. “A—a slight misunderstanding with Lord Gaywood!”

Mr. Mamble executed one of his low bows in the Viscount’s direction, and begged him to state what devilry the pesky boy had been engaged on. He then cuffed Tom, and told him he should think shame to come into his Grace’s presence looking like a pauper brat.

“Well, I couldn’t help getting my clothes muddied, Pa!” said Tom sulkily. “It was a badger!”

“You say Papa, like you hear his Grace! How dare you go plaguing this gentleman with badgers? Now, you tell me this instant where you’ve put it, and no more tricks! I know you!”

The Viscount’s face of astonishment proved too much for the Duke. He sank into a chair, covering his eyes with one hand, and making a helpless gesture with the other.

“What the devil—?” exploded the Viscount, quite bewildered. “Who said anything about badgers! If that damned boy is your son—” He stopped, suddenly perceiving into what disclosures a complaint against his youthful tormentor would lead him. “Oh, never mind, never mind!” he said irritably.

“You tell his lordship you’re sorry for what you’ve done!” Mr. Mamble adjured his offspring.

“I ain’t sorry!” said Tom recalcitrantly. “I did it because I knew Mr. Rufford would be pleased, and he was! And I won’t let him bully Mr. Rufford, not if you tell me for ever! He shan’t touch him!”

Mr. Mamble looked suspiciously at the Viscount. “Oh, so that’s the way it is, is it?” he said. “Seems to me it’s his lordship as is wanted here! I don’t hold with duelling, and I’ll be bound he don’t either, for he’s a sensible man! I’ll wager he’ll know how to handle it!”

“Here, I say, no!” exclaimed the startled Viscount, seeing him about to go in search of Lord Lionel. “You can’t do that! Gilly!”

“Lord or no lord,” said Mr. Mamble firmly, “I know where my duty lies!”

The Duke pulled himself together, raising his head from his hand, and saying faintly: “You are quite mistaken, Mr. Mamble! Lord Gaywood and I have no intention of fighting a duel. Infact, Lord Gaywood and I are shortly to become brothers!”

Mr. Mamble still looked unconvinced, so Gideon said kindly: “Have no fear, sir! I will not let the children harm each other! They will have their little differences, you know. Pray forgive me, but should you not take Tom upstairs to brush the mud from his clothes?”

“Ay, that I will do!” said Mr. Mamble, seizing Tom by the lobe of one ear, and leading him forth.

“For God’s sake, Gilly!” said the Viscount, momentarily forgetful of the point at issue, “where did you pick up that fellow?” He recollected himself, and tried to whip up his dying wrath. “Not that I care for that!” he said hastily. “When we were interrupted, my lord Duke—”

“Oh, Charlie, don’t start calling me my lord Duke again!” begged the Duke. “You will set me off laughing once more, and my ribs are aching! Do stop making such a cake of yourself! You know very well that by tomorrow you will be thanking God you are so well out of a scrape! You have no notion what a tiresome girl Belinda is!”

“Oh, haven’t I?” retorted the Viscount. “Let me tell you that she made me go all the way to Milsom Street for a gown all over gold beads, and of the most shocking colour you ever laid eyes on! But I don’t mind that! Damme, I never saw a lovelier creature in my life! But that was a dog’s trick you served me, Gilly! To send me off after a damned chaise with an old harridan in it, and her pug-dog—”

The Duke gave a little crow of joy. “Oh, no, Charlie, was it indeed an old harridan? If only I might have seen you! But it was none of my doing, I swear! My peerless Thomas planned and executed the whole!”

“I wish I’d choked the brat!” said his lordship. “Oh, yes, it’s very well for you to laugh, but it is a great deal too bad, and here am I with this damned purple gown on my hands, besides all else!” He glanced round as the door opened to admit his sister, and blinked. “Good God, how came you here, Harry?”

“Gilly brought me,” she replied. “Charlie, I do not like to be cross and scolding, but I am quite vexed with you! How could you behave so? It was too bad of you!”

The Duke led her towards the fire. “No, no, don’t be vexed with him, Harry! The poor fellow is left with a purple gown upon his hands, and has no one upon whom to bestow it!”

“I have been thinking about that,” she replied seriously. “It quite serves Charlie right, but, you know, Gilly, I think I will buy it from him, and give it to poor Belinda for a bride-gift. It would make her so very happy, and perhaps if only she had it she would be content!”

“You are an angel, Harriet,” said the Duke, pressing her hand. “She will look quite shockingly in it, you know, but I daresay Mudgley will not think so. Should I give her a ring to put on her finger, do you think?”