"I was about to say," he went on, feeling more awkward than he had intended to feel, "that owing to circumstances----" "On which we need not enter," said the Major. "Quite so--quite so!" He rose upon his toes, and sank back on his heels. Mr. Roland began to blush. He was not a particularly shy man, but under the circumstances the Major was trying. "But I was about to remark that----" "Sir," said the Major, shooting out his right hand towards Mr. Ronald in an unexpected manner, "once for all, sir, I say that I know all about it--once for all, sir! And the sooner we come to the point the better." "Really," murmured Mr. Roland, "I am at a loss--" "Then," cried the Major, suddenly flaring up in a way that was even startling, "let me tell you that I wonder you have the impertinence to say so. And I may further remark that the sooner you say what you have to say, and have done with it, the better for both sides." Thereupon he went stamping up and down the room with heavy strides. Mr. Roland was so taken aback, that for a moment he was inclined to think that the Major had been drinking. "Major Clifford," he said, with an air of dignity which he fondly hoped would tell, "I came here to speak to you on a matter intimately connected with your niece's future happiness." "What the dickens do you mean by your confounded impudence? Do you mean to insinuate, sir, that my niece's happiness can be affected by your trumpery nonsense?" "Sir," said Mr. Roland. "Major!" There was no doubt about it, the Major must be intoxicated. It was painful to witness in a man of his years, but what could you expect from a person of his habits of life? He began to wish he had postponed his visit to another day. "Don't Major me! Don't attempt any of your palavering with me! I'm not a fool, sir, and I am not an idiot, sir, and that's plain, sir!" "Major," he said--"Major Clifford, I will not tell you----" "You will not tell me, sir! What the dickens do you mean by you will not tell me? Do you mean to insult me in my own house, sir?" Mr. Roland was disposed to think that the insult was all on the other side, and inclined to fancy that a man who abused another before he knew either his name or errand, could be nothing but a hopeless lunatic. "This pains me," he observed--"pains me more than I can express." "Well, upon my life!" shouted the Major. "A fellow comes to my house with the deliberate intention of insulting me and mine, and yet he has the confounded insolence to tell me that it pains him!" "Major," Mr. Roland was naturally beginning to feel a little warm, "you are not sober." "Sober!" roared the Major. "Not sober! Confound it! this is too much!"