"By Heaven," he said, "if I were a younger man I would kick you down these stairs. Have you forced your way in here to insult me?" "On the contrary, it was my desire rather to conciliate you; but you charged me with dishonesty at the outset." "Conciliate me, indeed!" And Sir John turned away with a sneer upon his face. "We neither of us gain anything by losing our tempers," Ralph said, after a pause. "Had we not better let bygones be bygones?" Sir John faced him again and stared. "It is no pleasure to me to rake up the past," Ralph went on. "Probably we should both be happier if we could forget. I don't deny that I vowed eternal enmity against you and yours." "I am glad to hear it," Sir John snorted. "Time, however, has taken the sting out of many things, and to-day I love one whom I would have hated." "You love----?" "It is of no use beating about the bush," Ralph went on. "I love your daughter, and I have come to ask your permission----" He did not finish the sentence, however. With blazing eyes and clenched fist Sir John shrieked at the top of his voice-- "Silence! Silence! How dare you? You----" "No, do not use hard words," Ralph interrupted. "You may regret it later." "Regret calling you--a--a----" But no suitable or sufficiently expressive epithet would come to his lips, and he sank into a chair almost livid with anger and excitement. Ralph kept himself well in hand. He had expected a scene, and so was prepared for it. Seizing his opportunity, he spoke again. "Had we not better discuss the matter without feeling or passion?" he said, in quiet, even tones. "Surely I am not making an unreasonable request. Even you know of nothing against my character." "You are a vulgar upstart," Sir John hissed. "Good heavens, you!--you!--aspiring to the hand of my daughter." "I am not an upstart, and I hope I am not vulgar," Ralph replied quietly. "At any rate, I am an Englishman. You are no more than that. The accidents of birth count for nothing." "Indeed!" "In your heart you know it is so. In what do you excel? Wherein lies your superiority?" For a moment Sir John stared at him; then he said, with intense bitterness of tone-- "Will you have the good manners to take yourself out of my sight?" "I will do so, certainly, though you have not answered my questions." "If I were only a younger man I would answer you in a way you would not quickly forget." "Then you refuse to give your permission?" "Absolutely. I would rather see my child in her coffin." "If you loved your child you would think more of her happiness than of your own pride. I am sorry to find you are a tyrant still." "Thank you. Have you any further remarks to make?" "No!" And he turned away and moved toward the door. Then he turned suddenly round with his hand on the door knob. "By-the-bye, you may be interested to know that I have discovered a very rich vein that runs through your estate," he said quietly, and he pulled the door slowly open.