My Dear Miss Trefoil,

It is a great grief to me that I should have to answer your letter in a manner that will I fear not be satisfactory to you.  I can only say that you have altogether mistaken me if you think that I have said anything which was intended as an offer of marriage.  I cannot but be much flattered by your good opinion.  I have had much pleasure from our acquaintance, and I should have been glad if it could have been continued.  But I have had no thoughts of marriage.  If I have said a word which has, unintentionally on my part, given rise to such an idea I can only beg your pardon heartily.  If I were to add more after what I have now said perhaps you would take it as impertinence.

                         Yours most sincerely,
                                Rufford.

He had desired to make various additions and suggestions which however had all been disallowed by Sir George Penwether.  He had proposed among other things to ask her whether he should keep Jack for her for the remainder of the season or whether he should send the horse elsewhere, but Sir George would not allow a word in the letter about Jack.  “You did give her the horse then?” he asked.

“I had hardly any alternative as the things went.  She would have been quite welcome to the horse if she would have let me alone afterwards.”

“No doubt; but when young gentlemen give young ladies horses—­”

“I know all about it, my dear fellow.  Pray don’t preach more than you can help.  Of course I have been an infernal ass.  I know all that.  But as the horse is hers—­”

“Say nothing about the horse.  Were she to ask for it of course she could have it; but that is not likely.”

“And you think I had better say nothing else.”

“Not a word.  Of course it will be shown to all her friends and may possibly find its way into print.  I don’t know what steps such a young lady may be advised to take.  Her uncle is a man of honour.  Her father is an ass and careless about everything.  Mistletoe will not improbably feel himself bound to act as though he were her brother.  They will, of course, all think you to be a rascal,—­and will say so.”

“If Mistletoe says so I’ll horsewhip him.”

“No you won’t, Rufford.  You will remember that this woman is a woman, and that a woman’s friends are bound to stand up for her.  After all your hands are not quite clean in the matter.”

“I am heavy enough on myself Penwether.  I have been a fool and I own it.  But I have done nothing unbecoming a gentleman.”  He was almost tempted to quarrel with his brother-in-law, but at last he allowed the letter to be sent just as Sir George had written it, and then tried to banish the affair from his mind for the present so that he might enjoy his life till the next hostile step should be taken by the Trefoil clan.