“Well, we’re all getting acquainted pretty quick, don’t you think?  I met your son in Piccadilly and had a long talk with him, and now you are paying me a neighbourly visit.”

“This was not intended to be a social call.”

“But it has become one.”

“And then, that is one point I wish to make, you know.  Ours is an old family, I would like to remind you that there were Marshmoretons in Belpher before the War of the Roses.”

“There were Bevans in Brooklyn before the B.R.T.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I was only pointing out that I can trace my ancestry a long way.  You have to trace things a long way in Brooklyn, if you want to find them.”

“I have never heard of Brooklyn.”

“You’ve heard of New York?”

“Certainly.”

“New York’s one of the outlying suburbs.”

Lord Marshmoreton relit his pipe.  He had a feeling that they were wandering from the point.

“It is quite impossible.”

“I can’t see it.”

“Maud is so young.”

“Your daughter could be nothing else.”

“Too young to know her own mind,” pursued Lord Marshmoreton, resolutely crushing down a flutter of pleasure.  There was no doubt that this singularly agreeable man was making things very difficult for him.  It was disarming to discover that he was really capital company—­the best, indeed, that the earl could remember to have discovered in the more recent period of his rather lonely life.  “At present, of course, she fancies that she is very much in love with you . . .  It is absurd!”

“You needn’t tell me that,” said George.  Really, it was only the fact that people seemed to go out of their way to call at his cottage and tell him that Maud loved him that kept him from feeling his cause perfectly hopeless.  “It’s incredible.  It’s a miracle.”

“You are a romantic young man, and you no doubt for the moment suppose that you are in love with her.”

“No!” George was not going to allow a remark like that to pass unchallenged.  “You are wrong there.  As far as I am concerned, there is no question of its being momentary or supposititious or anything of that kind.  I am in love with your daughter.  I was from the first moment I saw her.  I always shall be.  She is the only girl in the world!”

“Stuff and nonsense!”

“Not at all.  Absolute, cold fact.”

“You have known her so little time.”

“Long enough.”

Lord Marshmoreton sighed.  “You are upsetting things terribly.”

“Things are upsetting me terribly.”

“You are causing a great deal of trouble and annoyance.”

“So did Romeo.”

“Eh?”

“I said—­So did Romeo.”

“I don’t know anything about Romeo.”

“As far as love is concerned, I begin where he left off.”

“I wish I could persuade you to be sensible.”

“That’s just what I think I am.”