Trefoil family in general, and who shut the door upon him, leaving him as it were in prison.  He was so accustomed to be the absolute master of his own minutes and hours that he chafed greatly as he walked up and down the room for what seemed to him the greater part of a day.  He looked repeatedly at his watch, and at half-past ten declared to himself that if that fat old fool did not come within two minutes he would make his escape.

“The fat old fool” when he reached the house asked for his nephew and endeavoured to persuade Lord Mistletoe to go with him to the interview.  But Lord Mistletoe was as firm in refusing as had been Sir George Penwether.  “You are quite wrong,” said the young man with well-informed sententious gravity.  “I could do nothing to help you.  You are Arabella’s father and no one can plead her cause but yourself.”  Lord Augustus dropped his eyebrows over his eyes as this was said.  They who knew him well and had seen the same thing done when his partner would not answer his call at whist or had led up to his discard were aware that the motion was tantamount to a very strong expression of disgust.  He did not, however, argue the matter any further, but allowed himself to be led away slowly by the same solemn servant.  Lord Rufford had taken up his hat preparatory to his departure when Lord Augustus was announced just five minutes after the half hour.

When the elder man entered the room the younger one put down his hat and bowed.  Lord Augustus also bowed and then stood for a few moments silent with his fat hands extended on the round table in the middle of the room.  “This is a very disagreeable kind of thing, my Lord,” he said.

“Very disagreeable, and one that I lament above all things,” answered Lord Rufford: 

“That’s all very well;—­very well indeed;—­but, damme, what’s the meaning of it all?  That’s what I want to ask.  What’s the meaning of it all?” Then he paused as though he had completed the first part of his business,—­and might now wait awhile till the necessary explanation had been given.  But Lord Rufford did not seem disposed to give any immediate answer.  He shrugged his shoulders, and, taking up his hat, passed his hand once or twice round the nap.  Lord Augustus opened his eyes very wide as he waited and looked at the other man; but it seemed that the other man had nothing to say for himself.  “You don’t mean to tell me, I suppose, that what my daughter says isn’t true.”

“Some unfortunate mistake, Lord Augustus;—­most unfortunate.”

“Mistake be—.”  He stopped himself before the sentence was completed, remembering that such an interview should be conducted on the part of him, as father, with something of dignity.  “I don’t understand anything about mistakes.  Ladies don’t make mistakes of that kind.  I won’t hear of mistakes.”  Lord Rufford again shrugged his shoulders.  “You have engaged my daughter’s affections.”

“I have the greatest regard for Miss Trefoil.”