Edward Cossey rose with astonishment and irritation, not unmixed with nervousness, depicted on his face. The last person whom he wished to see and expected a visit from was Colonel Quaritch, whom in his heart he held in considerable awe. Besides, he had of late received such a series of unpleasant calls that it is not wonderful that he began to dread these interviews. “Good-day,” he said coldly. “Will you be seated?” The Colonel bowed his head slightly, but he did not sit down. “To what am I indebted for the pleasure?” began Edward Cossey with much politeness. “Last time I was here, Mr. Cossey,” said the Colonel in his deep voice, speaking very deliberately, “I came to give an explanation; now I come to ask one.” “Indeed!” “Yes. To come to the point, Miss de la Molle and I are attached to each other, and there has been between us an understanding that this attachment might end in marriage.” “Oh! has there?” said the younger man with a sneer. “Yes,” answered the Colonel, keeping down his rising temper as well as he could. “But now I am told, upon what appears to be good authority, that you have actually condescended to bring, directly and indirectly, pressure of a monetary sort to bear upon Miss de la Molle and her father in order to force her into a distasteful marriage with yourself.” “And what the devil business of yours is it, sir,” asked Cossey, “what I have or have not done? Making every allowance for the disappointment of an unsuccessful suitor, for I presume that you appear in that character,” and again he sneered, “I ask, what business is it of yours?” “It is every business of mine, Mr. Cossey, because if Miss de la Molle is forced into this marriage, I shall lose my wife.” “Then you will certainly lose her. Do you suppose that I am going to consider you? Indeed,” he went on, being now in a towering passion, “I should have thought that considering the difference of age and fortune between us, you might find other reasons than you suggest to account for my being preferred, if I should be so preferred. Ladies are apt to choose the better man, you know.” “I don’t quite know what you mean by the ‘better man,’ Mr. Cossey,” said the Colonel quietly. “Comparisons are odious, and I will make none, though I admit that you have the advantage of me in money and in years. However, that is not the point; the point is that I have had the fortune to be preferred to _you_ by the lady in question, and _not_ you to me. I happen to know that the idea of her marriage with you is as distasteful to Miss de la Molle as it is to me. This I know from her own lips. She will only marry you, if she does so at all, under the pressure of direst necessity, and to save her father from the ruin you are deliberately bringing upon him.”