“He said nothing of the kind,” replied Katherine. “He said he was not in the Prince’s set, which means--well, which means--never mind what it means. As for his rank, it is a very old creation; at least, very old for England; the Courcys of Faldon go back to the Conqueror.” Mr. Massarene looked sharply at his daughter. “I thought you didn’t like the man?” “I neither like nor dislike him. I do not know him.” Then as this seemed to her sensitive conscience something approaching to an untruth, she added: “I met Lord Hurstmanceaux as I came to Vale Royal in the train that snowy day, but that can scarcely be called an acquaintance. I think you had better not ask him there, if you will allow me to say so, for he seemed much irritated at his cousin’s sale of the place to you.” “The damned starched puppy! What is the sale to him? Roxhall’s old enough to know his own business, eh?” muttered Mr. Massarene, as he thought to himself that the pet project of Lady Kenilworth would not be easy of realization. It was certainly not farther advanced by her careful arrangement of the visit to Bedlowes. “Why did you set up your back like that, Ronnie?” said Daddy to him in the evening. “Man is a beast, but girl is good form.” “I have not a word to say against her,” replied Hurstmanceaux. “But as it is impossible to know her without knowing her father, I relinquish the pleasure of doing so.” “Buckram!” said Daddy. “’Tisn’t worn nowadays. Even soldiers don’t have stocks any longer.” “It is not buckram. It is common decency. That infernal cad is living in Gerald’s house.” “Well, that is Gerald’s fault, I suppose, for selling it. You are wrong, Ronnie--quite wrong. Miss Massarene is well-bred enough to get her father accepted. In point of fact he is accepted; he goes everywhere.” “She is very distinguished-looking. But I don’t know what that has to do with it,” said Hurstmanceaux in his stiffest and crossest manner. “As for your seeing him anywhere, you won’t see him at Faldon. I wish Mrs. Raby had told me of her intentions; I should not have come here. I have avoided these people everywhere for two years.” “People don’t send a list of their guests on approval except to Royalty. They’d never fill their houses if they did. Miss Massarene knows your sentiments, don’t she? Her back was up as well as yours.” “Certainly she knows them. I have never made a secret of them. Who could suppose that at Bedlowes of all places one would come across that cad?” Daddy yawned and shut his eyes. “I think you know,” he said drowsily, “that as your sister has run ’em you ought to back ’em. Must back one’s own stable!” “My sister’s stable is not mine,” replied Hurstmanceaux quickly. “She runs her dark ’uns wholly on her own responsibility.” “Of course, of course,” said Daddy. “But the young woman’s fit for any stables. How she came by it I don’t know, but she’s uncommonly well-bred.”