"To give up making love to Mrs. Hammond. Now, be quiet; don't put yourself in a rage, and don't try those uplifted eyebrows, and that general expression of injured astonishment, on me, because it won't do. I was not born last week, and my capacity for gauging such matters is by no means small. Besides, I happened yesterday to be taking my walks abroad in a meadow not far from the western lodge of Redmoor Park, the seat of Sir Charles Mitford, Bart., and I happened to witness an interview of a very tender and touching kind, which took place between a lady and a gentleman both on horseback. I imagined something of the kind was going on. I saw something when you were leaving the house that night at Torquay which would have surprised any one who had not learned as much of Mrs. Hammond as I had during the time I had been with her. But since we have been here my suspicions have been confirmed, and yesterday's proceedings left no doubt upon my mind So I determined to speak to you at once, and to tell you that this must not and shall not be!" Mitford's face grew very dark as he said: "And suppose I were to ask you how the flirtation which you allege exists between me and--and the lady you have named,--which I utterly and entirely deny,--suppose I were to ask how this flirtation affects you, and, in short, what the devil business it is of yours?" "How it affects me? Why--no, but that's too preposterous. Not even you, with all your vanity, could possibly imagine that I have in my own mind consented to forget the past, that I have buried the hatchet, that I have returned to my _premier amour_, and am consequently jealous of your attentions to Mrs. Hammond." "I don't suppose that. But I can't see what other motive you can possibly have." "You can't, and you never shall. I don't choose to tell you; perhaps I have taken compassion on your wife, who is very pretty--of her style--and seems very good and all that, and very fond of you, poor silly thing! and I don't choose her to be tormented by you. Perhaps I want that poor wretched invalid to die in peace, and not to have his life suddenly snuffed out by the scandal which is sure to arise if this goes on. Perhaps--but no matter! I don't intend to give my reasons, and I've told you what I want." "And suppose I tell you--as I do tell you--I won't do what you want, and I defy you! What then?" "Then I will compel you." "Will you? Do you think I don't know the screw which you would put on me? You'd proclaim all about my former life, my connection with that rascally crew, of whom you were one--" "Who brought me into it?" "No matter;--of whom you were one! You'd rake up that story of the bill with my uncle's name to it. Well, suppose you did. What then? It would be news to nobody here--they all know of it."