A DISAGREEABLE INTERVIEW. “Well!” said Mr. West, when he found himself alone in the smoking-room with Lord Anthony. How much can be expressed in that exclamation. “It was not well, sir. She will have nothing to say to me. I had no luck.” “Do you mean with Maddie?” exclaimed her father, in a tone of fretful amazement. “Yes. I had a long talk with her, and she won’t have anything to say to me!” “What--what reason did she give you?” demanded Mr. West. “What reason, I say?” “None, except that she did not wish to marry me; and she seemed to think that reason _enough_.” “And did you not press her?” “It was of no use; but, all the same, I intend to try again--that is, if there is no one else, and Miss West has no attachment elsewhere.” “Attachment elsewhere? Nonsense!” irritably. “Why, she was at _school_ till I came home--till she met me on the steamer with her governess! You saw her yourself; so you may put that out of your head. She’s a mere girl, and does not know her own mind; but I know mine, and if she marries to please me, I’ll settle forty thousand pounds on her on her wedding day, and allow her five thousand a year. It’s not many girls in England who have as much pinned to their petticoat; and she will have considerably more at my death. If you stick to Maddie, you will see she will marry you eventually. She knows you, and is getting used to you--coming in and out in London; and you have a great pull over other men, staying here in the same house, with lots of wet days perhaps!” The following morning Madeline was sent for by her father. He felt that he could speak with more authority from the ’vantage ground of the hearthrug in his own writing-room; and after breakfast was the time he selected for the audience. Evidently Madeline had no idea of what was awaiting her, for she came up to him and laid her hand upon his arm, and gave him an extra morning kiss. “I suppose it’s about this picnic to the Devil’s Pie-dish?” she began. In no part of the world has the devil so much and such a various property as in Ireland--glens, mountains, bridges, punch-bowls, bits, ladders--there is scarcely a county in which he has not some possessions--and they say he is a resident landlord. Mr. West propped himself against the mantelpiece and surveyed her critically. She was certainly a most beautiful creature--in her parent’s fond eyes--and quite fitted to be sister-in-law to a duke. “It’s not about the picnic; that must be put off, the day has broken. It’s something far more important. Ahem!” clearing his throat. “What’s all _this_ about you and Foster?” “Why?” she stammered, colouring deeply, and struck by a peculiar ring in his voice. “_Why?_” impatiently. “He tells me that he proposed to you yesterday, and you refused him point-blank; and now, in my turn, _I_ ask why?” Madeline was silent. She began to feel very uncomfortable, and her heart beat fearfully fast. “Well, is it true?” he demanded sharply.