“May I refer you to Miss Haught for confirmation of my words?”

“I say, as I said before, no.”

“May I see the young lady herself?”

“No; but I will tell you something that may console you under your disappointment.  I have seen in several of your papers, in the society columns, my granddaughter referred to as my sole heiress.  I do not know who is responsible for these reports, but you may have believed them, though there is not a word of truth in them.  My granddaughter is not my sole heiress; not my heiress in the slightest degree.  I have two stalwart sons, partners in my business, both now in charge of the works at North End, Cumberland mountains, and managing them extremely well, else I could not be taking a long holiday here.  These sons are heirs to all my property.  Nor is my granddaughter the heiress of her late father.  She has a brother, now a cadet at our military academy at West Point.  He inherits the bulk of his father’s estate.  My granddaughter’s fortune is, therefore, very moderate—­quite beneath the consideration of an English nobleman,” concluded the old man, very grimly.

The young duke heard him out, and then answered;

“I trust, sir, that you will credit me with better motives in seeking the hand of the young lady.  It was her charm of person and of mind that attracted me to her.”

“Of course, of course; but, my dear duke, there is a plenty of sole heiresses among the wealthy trades-people of London who would be proud to buy a title with a fortune.  Let me advise you to strike a bargain with one of them.  Now, as I have pressing business on hand, you will excuse me.”

The young duke arose, with a bow, and left the room, muttering to himself:  “What an unmitigated beast that old man is!  I do like the girl; she is a beautiful creature, but—­I am well out of it after all.”

Old Aaron Rockharrt made no false pretense of business to get rid of his unwelcome visitor; he never made false pretense of any sort for any purpose.  He had pressing business on hand, though it was business which had suddenly arisen during his interview with the duke, and had in fact come out of it.  No sooner had the young man left the house than the Iron King went to the agency of the Cunard line, and secured staterooms for himself and party in the Asia, that was to sail on the following Saturday from Liverpool for New York.

When he re-entered his parlor at the Langham, he found his wife and Cora seated there, the girl reading the Court Journal to her grandmother.

“Put that tomfoolery down, Cora, and listen to me, both of you!  This is Wednesday.  We leave London for Liverpool on Friday morning, and sail from Liverpool for New York on Saturday.  So you sent that man to me, mistress?”

“Yes, sir,” without looking up.

“For my consent to a marriage with him!”

“Yes, sir!”