The gift is rare enough upon the bench. People shrink from having their concerns adjudicated by a meddlesome amateur. SIR FLETCHER PORTWOOD. I sent Claude to town for his mother at ten o’clock this morning. When _they_ arrive, the family will be complete—with the exception Of my brother, Thomas Osborne Portwood, who is in Australia; a deplorable case. [_Looking about him._] Arbitration dispenses with legal paraphernalia. A table, writing materials, a few chairs arranged—[_his eye falling upon a table_]—a table. [_He moves the table and stands, disposing, by gesture, of an imaginary audience._] Seated here, I should command the room. [_Pushing the settee a little further towards the left._] This thing must be differently placed. Chairs there—and there—— [_To_ FRASER.] Locheen, would this be the better room, I wonder, or the library? FRASER. [_Who has lapsed into thought, rousing himself._] Eh, for what? SIR FLETCHER PORTWOOD. For the arbitration? [FRASER _impatiently starts to his feet as_ MRS. CLOYS _enters at the window with_ JOHN.] Oh, Mr. Allingham, if you will give me just a moment or two—— MRS. CLOYS. [_Taking_ SIR FLETCHER’S _arm and drawing him aside_.] Not now, Fletcher. SIR FLETCHER PORTWOOD. [_Annoyed._] Harriet——! [SIR FLETCHER _and_ MRS. CLOYS _stand outside the window, talking_. JOHN _comes and faces_ FRASER. JOHN. [_With an effort._] I am sorry to hear, Mr. Fraser, that you have been annoyed, while a visitor at my house, by the persistency of my cough. FRASER. If I could have assured myself, Mr. Allingham, that your cough was a genuine one, it would not, however violent and grave its attacks, have occasioned me the smallest concern. JOHN. I admit the cough was not genuine. I employed it as a sign that I was at hand should you wish to have an explanation with me. FRASER. The invitation might have been more explicitly phrased. JOHN. It was clear enough for most men. At any rate, I hope the invitation is sufficiently plain now. FRASER. Quite. JOHN. You decline it, or accept it? FRASER. If I hesitate, it is because I hardly know in what language you would choose for me to reply. JOHN. Language——? FRASER. Words—or a cough? JOHN. Oh, whichever you find most procrastinating and evasive. FRASER. [_Coolly._] I decline your invitation, Mr. Allingham; I have nothing to say to you. JOHN. [_With clenched hands._] Nothing!