e village, and took the road to Rutland,
intending to stop for the night at a cottage two miles distant, upon his
father's estates. I was to follow Sir John when the ladies were safely
lodged at The Peacock.

It was agreed between us that nothing should be said concerning the
presence of any man save Dawson and myself in our party.

When John left us, I rode to The Peacock with Dorothy and Madge, and while
I was bidding them good-by my violent cousin, Sir George, entered the inn.
Dorothy ran to her father and briefly related the adventures of the night,
dwelling with undeserved emphasis upon the help I had rendered. She told
her father--the statement was literally true--that she had met me at the
Royal Arms, where I was stopping, and that she had, through fear of the
storm and in dread of highwaymen, asked me to ride beside their coach to
Rowsley.

When I saw Sir George enter the room, I expected to have trouble with him;
but after he had spoken with Dorothy, much to my surprise, he offered me
his hand and said:--

"I thank you, Malcolm, for the help you have rendered my girls, and I am
glad you have come back to us."

"I have not come back to you, Sir George," said I, withholding my hand. "I
met Mistress Vernon and Lady Madge at the Royal Arms, and escorted them to
Rowsley for reasons which she has just given to you. I was about to depart
when you entered."

"Tut, tut! Malcolm, you will come with us to Haddon Hall."

"To be ordered away again, Sir George?" I asked.

"I did not order you to go. You left in a childish fit of anger. Why in
the devil's name did you run away so quickly? Could you not have given a
man time to cool off? You treated me very badly, Malcolm."

"Sir George, you certainly know--"

"I know nothing of the sort. Now I want not another word from you. Damme!
I say, not another word. If I ever ordered you to leave Haddon Hall, I
didn't know what I was doing," cried Sir George, heartily.

"But you may again not know," said I.

"Now, Malcolm, don't be a greater fool than I was. If I say I did not
order you to leave Haddon Hall, can't you take me at my word? My age and
my love for you should induce you to let me ease my conscience, if I can.
If the same illusion should ever come over you again--that is, if you
should ever again imagine that I am ordering you to leave Haddon
Hall--well, just tell me to go to the devil. I have been punished enough
already, man. Come home with us. Here is Doroth