“‘You shall not see her at all,’ says the old lady, quite mild; ’not at all.  You must not come again, for you will not be admitted.  Police will be here to put you out if you attempt to force an entrance as you did before.’

“‘Force an entrance!’ I cried.

“‘Yes,’ she said, ’force an entrance.  You did so, and you filled the whole house with your shouts.  Is that to be borne?  Not by us, Sir.  And now go, and don’t disturb us any more.’

“Well, I’ll be darned if I ever felt so cut up in my life.  The old lady was perfectly calm and cool; wasn’t a bit scared—­though there was no reason why she should be.  She just gave it to me that way.  But when she accused me of forcing an entrance and kicking up a row, I was struck all of a heap and couldn’t say a word. Me force an entrance! Me kick up a row!  And in Minnie’s house!  Why, the old woman’s mad!

“Well, the old lady shut the door in my face, and I walked off; and I’ve been ever since trying to understand it, but I’ll be darned if I can make head or tail of it.  The only thing I see is that they’re all keeping Minnie locked up away from me.  They don’t like me, though why they don’t I can’t see; for I’m as good as any body, and I’ve been particular about being civil to all of them.  Still they don’t like me, and they see that Minnie does, and they’re trying to break up the engagement.  But by the living jingo!” and the Baron clinched a good-sized and very sinewy fist, which he brought down hard on the table—­“by the living jingo, they’ll find they can’t come it over me!  No, Sir!”

“Is she fond of you—­Miss Fay, I mean?”

“Fond!  Course she is.  She dotes on me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure!  As sure as I am of my own existence.  Why, the way she looks at me is enough!  She has a look of helpless trust, an innocent confidence, a tender, child-like faith and love, and a beseeching, pleading, imploring way that tells me she is mine through and through.”

Hawbury was a little surprised.  He thought he had heard something like that before.

“Oh, well,” said he, “that’s the chief thing, you know.  If you’re sure of the girl’s affections, the battle’s half won.”

“Half won!  Ain’t it all won?”

“Well, not exactly.  You see, with us English, there are ever so many considerations.”

“But with us Americans there is only one consideration, and that is, Do you love me?  Still, if her relatives are particular about dollars, I can foot up as many thousands as her old man, I dare say; and then, if they care for rank, why, I’m a Baron!”

“And what’s more, old boy,” said Hawbury, earnestly, “if they wanted a valiant, stout, true, honest, loyal soul, they needn’t go further than Rufus K. Gunn, Baron de Atramonte.”

The Baron’s face flushed.