John was not a patient man, and his impatience was apt to take the form of words and actions.  A little aimless stalking about at the gate was more than enough for him, so he stepped toward the intruder and lifted his hat.

“I beg your pardon,” he said, “I thought when first I saw you that you were Sir Malcolm Vernon.  I fancied you bore resemblance to him.  I see that I was in error.”

“Yes, in error,” answered my beard.

Again the two gentlemen walked around each other with great amusement on the part of one, and with ever increasing vexation on the part of the other.

Soon John said, “May I ask whom have I the honor to address?”

“Certainly, you may ask,” was the response.

A silence ensued during which Dorothy again turned her back on John and walked a few paces away from him.  John’s patience was rapidly oozing, and when the unknown intruder again turned in his direction, John said with all the gentleness then at his command:—­

“Well, sir, I do ask.”

“Your curiosity is flattering,” said the girl.

“Pardon me, sir,” returned John.  “My curiosity is not intended to be flattering.  I—­”

“I hope it is not intended to be insulting, sir?” asked my hat and cloak.

“That, sir, all depends upon yourself,” retorted John, warmly.  Then after an instant of thought, he continued in tones of conciliation:—­

“I have an engagement of a private nature at this place.  In short, I hope to meet a—­a friend here within a few minutes and I feel sure that under the circumstances so gallant a gentleman as yourself will act with due consideration for the feelings of another.  I hope and believe that you will do as you would be done by.”

“Certainly, certainly,” responded the gallant.  “I find no fault at all with your presence.  Please take no account whatever of me.  I assure you I shall not be in the least disturbed.”

John was somewhat disconcerted.

“Perhaps you will not be disturbed,” replied John, struggling to keep down his temper, “but I fear you do not understand me.  I hope to meet a—­a lady and—­”

“I hope also to meet a—­a friend,” the fellow said; “but I assure you we shall in no way conflict.”

“May I ask,” queried John, “if you expect to meet a gentleman or a lady?”

“Certainly you may ask,” was the girl’s irritating reply.

“Well, well, sir, I do ask,” said John.  “Furthermore, I demand to know whom you expect to meet at this place.”

“That, of course, sir, is no business of yours.”

“But I shall make it my affair.  I expect to meet a lady here, my sweetheart.”  The girl’s heart jumped with joy.  “And if you have any of the feelings of a gentleman, you must know that your presence will be intolerable to me.”

“Perhaps it will be, my dear sir, but I have as good a right here as you or any other.  If you must know all about my affairs, I tell you I, too, hope to meet my sweetheart at this place.  In fact, I know I shall meet my sweetheart, and, my good fellow, I beg to inform you that a stranger’s presence would be very annoying to me.”