“Oh, you don’t!  Well, I did not think you did.  In what other way can I oblige you?”

Indignation generally deprives a man of self-possession, but on this occasion it restored that of the embarrassed lover.  Feeling that he—­the descendant of a dozen dukes, whose ancestors had “come over with William the Conqueror,” had served in Palestine under King Richard, had compelled King John to sign the Magna Charta, had gained glory in every generation—­was about to do this rude, purse-proud old tradesman the greatest honor in asking of him his granddaughter in marriage, he said, somewhat coldly: 

“Miss Haught has made me happy in the hope of her acceptance of my hand, pending your approval, and has referred me to you.”

The Iron King stared at the speaker for a moment, and then said, quite calmly: 

“Please to repeat that all over again, slowly and distinctly.”

The duke flushed to the edges of his hair, but he repeated his proposal in plain words.

“You have asked Cora Haught to marry you?” demanded the Iron King.

“Yes, sir.”

“What did she say?”

“She did me the honor to give me some hope, and she referred me to you, as I have already explained.”

“I don’t believe it!” blurted the old man.

“Sir!” said the duke, in a low voice.

“I don’t believe it!  What!  My granddaughter—­mine—­break her faith and wish to marry some one else?”

“Mr. Rockharrt,” began the duke, in a smooth tone—­though his blood was hot with anger—­“I am sorry you should so forget the—­”

“I forget nothing.  I remember that you charge my granddaughter—­mine—­with unfaithfulness!  It is an insult, sir!”

“Really, Mr. Rockharrt, I do not understand you.”

“I don’t suppose you do!  I never gave your order much credit for intelligence.”

Is this old ruffian mad or drunk? was the secret question of the duke, whose tone and manner, always calm and polite, grew even calmer and more polite as the Iron King grew more sarcastic and insulting.

“I would suggest that you speak to Miss Haught on this subject, that she may confirm my statement,” he said.

“I shall do nothing of the kind!  I shall not entertain for an instant the thought of the possibility of my granddaughter breaking her plighted faith.”

“I never knew that she was engaged.  May I ask the name of the happy man?”

“Regulas Rothsay; he is not a duke; he is a printer; also a senator, and nominated for governor of his native State; sure to be elected, and then he is to marry my granddaughter, who has been engaged to him many years.”

“But Miss Haught certainly authorized me to ask her hand of you.”

When did this extraordinary acceptance take place?”

“Yesterday evening, at Lady Netherby’s ball.”

“After supper?”

“After supper.”

“That accounts for it!  You took too much wine, and misunderstood my granddaughter’s reply She must have referred you to me for an explanation of her engagement, and consequent inability to entertain any other man’s proposal.  That was it!”