Manners soon rallied, much to Sir George’s relief; and the two sat down together at the little table.  The baron, tried to express his sympathy with him in his great disappointment which had just come upon him, but his words were clumsy, and afforded no relief.

“It is not yet quite decided upon, is it?” asked the young man.

“We expect Sir Edward now at any time,” the knight replied.

“But, Sir George, Dorothy has plighted her troth to me.”

“Ah, we know it; Margaret has told us of it.  ’Twas a foolish thing to do.”

“And Father Philip blessed the match,” pursued Manners.

“But she has been promised to Edward Stanley,” was the quiet reply, “and a Vernon’s promise is never broken, never.”

The two remained silent awhile.  Sir George had made wonderful progress with his mission of late—­a fact due to the knowledge that Lady Vernon was standing just outside the door; and before either of them spoke again she entered the room, and making a formal courtesy to the visitor, she advanced to her husband’s side.

“You have told Master Manners, I suppose?” she inquired in a harsh, unfeeling voice that stabbed the lover’s heart by every word.

“Yes, my dear,” he replied, looking as if he were ashamed of the whole business, “I have told him all.”

“But surely you cannot understand Dorothy’s feelings in the——­”

“Dorothy will do as we desire,” interrupted Lady Maude, severely.

“Do you really love your daughter, Sir George?” asked Manners, in desperation.  “Then I conjure you by all the affection towards her you possess, that in this, matter you consult her happiness.  I cannot live without her, and she will fade away like a tender flower if you baulk her choice.”

“Do I love her?” repeated Sir George, impatiently.  “Aye, that I do; am I not her father?”

“Hush, Sir George,” interrupted Lady Vernon, “Master Manners is outrageous.  I will talk with him, and you can depart an you wish it.”

Nothing loth, Sir George turned to go; glad to wash his hands of the whole affair, and feeling thoroughly ashamed that it had ever fallen to his lot to treat a guest in so inhospitable a fashion.

“I am sorry, Master Manners,” continued the dame, as she watched the retreating figure of her lord, “that Sir George has played his part so ill.  It had been kinder on his part had he introduced the subject in another way, but he is ill-fitted for matters of business.”

Manners had heard the rustle of her gown outside the door some time before Lady Vernon had entered, and he shrewdly suspected that she had been listening to the conversation.  The manner in which she re-opened the subject at once convinced him that his conjecture was right, and knowing the integrity of the baron he was ready to defend him.

“Sir George meant well enough,” he said.

“Come now, Master Manners, that was bravely said,” replied the lady.  “He has a kind heart, but it is apt to be too kind at times, and then I have to go over it all again; you understand?”