“’Ow dare you come ’ere,” she exclaimed loudly, “and bring false accusations against my servants? No one in this ’ouse is kept short of food. What do you mean--a rubbishing fellow like you--by coming ’ere, and accusing the Baron of starving ’is animals? There’s more money spent upon our animals, I bet, than goes in your poverty-stricken ’ouse-’old in a year!” Captain Hill was now offended, as he well might be. “I do not know what knowledge you may possess of the exigencies of my parents’ household, Madam,” he replied, “but what I came here to tell you is this--that from whatever cause it may arise, the howling and whining of your dog is a public nuisance and it must be stopped!” “Must, must!” exclaimed Madame Gobelli, shaking her stick at him, “and pray ’oo’s to make me stop it?” “_I_ will,” said Captain Hill, “the noise is endangering the life of my mother, and I shall insist upon the animal being destroyed, or taken elsewhere. If you cannot take a friendly hint--if you have so callous a nature that the sufferings of an aged and invalid lady cannot excite your sympathy, the law shall teach you that, whatever you may fail to feel, you cannot annoy your neighbours with impunity!” “Fine neighbours indeed!” cried the Baroness, her whole face trembling and contorted with passion. “A beggarly lot of half-pay officers and retired parsons! I’ll soon see if you’ll be allowed to come riding the ’igh ’orse over me! Confound your impudence! Do you know ’oo I am?” “A Billingsgate fishwoman, I should imagine, from your language! Certainly not a gentlewoman!” said Captain Hill, his eyes blazing with his wrath. “’Ang you! I’ll soon teach you ’ow to insult a lady that’s connected with Royalty!” At that, the stranger burst into a derisive laugh. “Down the back stairs!” he muttered to himself, but Madame Gobelli caught the words. “Get out of my ’ouse,” she cried. “’Ere, Miss Wynward, see this fellow out at the front door, and never you let ’im in again, or I’ll give you a month’s warning! Down the back stairs indeed! Confound you! If you don’t clear out this very minute, I’ll lay my stick across your back! You’ll make me destroy my dog, will you, and just because your trumpery mother don’t like ’is barking! Go ’ome and tell ’er to ’old ’er own row! And you accuse my servants of not giving ’im enough to eat. You’d be glad enough to see ’is dinner on your own table once or twice a week. Out with you, I say--out with you at once, and don’t let me see your ugly mug and your carroty ’ead in ’ere again, or I’ll set the dog you don’t like upon you.” Captain Hill had turned white as a sheet with anger. “You’ll hear more of this, Madam, and from my solicitor next time,” he said. “Heartless, unfeeling woman! How can you call yourself a mother, when you have no pity for a son’s grief at his mother’s illness? Pray God you may not have occasion to remember this morning, when you have to part from your own son!”