“That is not fair, Colonel Ogilvie. She is a woman--if she _is_ your daughter, and is not to be treated brutally. You must not strike at a man through a woman. If you want to strike a man do so direct! I am the man. Strike me, how and when you will; but this woman is my wife--at least she is until she repudiates our marriage! But till then by God! no man--not even her father himself--shall strike her or at her, or through her!” Both he and Joy were surprised at the meek way in which the old man received this tirade. But even whilst he had been uttering the cruel threat both his conscience and his courage had been against him. This, the man and the woman who heard could, from evidence, divine. But there was another cause of which they had no knowledge. The moment after speaking, when his blind passion began to cool, the last words of his wife came back to his memory: “Be good to her, and never forget that she can suffer most through any one dear to her.” Furthermore, the recollection of Judy’s words as he was leaving clinched the matter: “You hold poor Joy’s life--which is her heart--in your hand!” He began his reply to Athlyne truculently--as was usual to him; but melted quickly as he went on: “Hey-day my young bantam-cock; you flash your spurs boldly. … But I don’t know but you’re right. I was wrong; I admit it! Joy my dear I apologise for it; and to you too, sir, who stand up so valiantly and so readily for your wife. I am glad my little girl has such a defender; though it is and will be a sad thought to me that I was myself the first to cause its evidence. But keep your hair on, young man! Men sometimes get hurt by running up against something that’s quite in its right place. … It’s my place to look after my little girl--till such time as you have registered your bond-rights. And see, doesn’t she declare she had no idea she was being married. However, it’s all right in this case. I don’t mean her to give herself away over this part of the job any more than you did a while ago when you stopped her telling me something that it wouldn’t have been wise to say. So, sir, guess we’ll call it quits this time. Well, little girl, let me tell you that you’ve said all at once to me two different things. You said you _didn’t_ intend to marry Lord Athlyne that time, but that you _did_ at some other. If that last doesn’t make an intention to marry I’m a Dutchman. I think we’d better let it rest at that! Now as to you Lord Athlyne! You seem to want--and rightly enough I’ll allow--that I make a formal retraction of my demand for your life. Well I do so now. There’s my hand! I can give it to you freely, for you are a brave man and you love my little girl; and my little girl loves you. I’m right sorry I didn’t know you at the first as I do now. But I suppose the fact is, I was jealous all along. You don’t know--yet--what I know: that you were thrown at me in a lot of ways before I ever saw you, by the joke that my little girl and Judy put up on me.