Major Day was a fierce-looking, smart, officer-like man of sixty, with curly grey hair that stood out from his well-shaped head, piercing eyes, heavy dark brows, and a massive, zebra-patterned moustache, the rest of his face being closely shaven. Perhaps "zebra-patterned" is an unusual term to give to a cavalry moustache; but this was regularly striped in black and silver grey, giving a peculiar aspect to the keen, upright, military man. "Halt!" shouted the major. "Hallo, Jack, going to see the pigs?" "Yes. Thought you were at home. Just sent Rolph to speak to you." "To speak to me? What about?" "Oh, I thought it best, you see, being my brother, and--er--as you like Glynne, and--er--" "What in the name of fortune are you stammering about, Jack?" said the major, sharply. "Why, you don't mean--" "That he has proposed for Glynne." "Damn his impudence!" "Don't talk nonsense, Jem," said the baronet, testily. "He has proposed, and I have given my consent." "But I always thought he was to marry that second cousin, Marjorie Emlin." "Doesn't look like it. Never seemed very warm when they dined here." "But--but it's so unexpected, so sudden. And Glynne?" cried the major, flushing, and bringing his heavy brows down over his eyes; "she hasn't accepted him?" "Why, of course she has. Don't be a fool, Jem," cried the baronet, angrily. "Fool! It's enough to make any man a fool. What does that fellow want with a wife--to take gate-money at some meeting?" "I do wish you wouldn't be so prejudiced, Jem." "To hold the tape when he's coming in after a footrace?" "Hang it all, Jem, do be sensible." "To feed him with raw steaks when he is in training?" continued the major, ironically. "To keep time, and polish his cups, and mind that he does not break the rules of his trainer? Good heavens! Jack, why, both you and Glynne must be mad." "Indeed!" said the baronet, hotly. "I don't see any madness in giving my consent to my child's accepting the son of an old neighbour, a confoundedly fine fellow, of good birth, and with four thousand a year." "I don't care if he were better of birth, and had twenty thousand a year. He wouldn't be a fit husband for our Glynne." "Well, no," said the baronet, proudly. "No man would be sufficiently good for her." "Who's talking nonsense now?" cried the major. "There are lots of good fellows in the world if she wants a husband, but I don't believe she does." "But she has accepted him." "Silly girl. Bit taken with the fine-looking fellow, that's all. Don't know her own mind yet. This is springing a mine." "Ah well, the thing's settled, so you may just as well retreat from your position, Jem." "But I shall not retreat, sir. I shall hold my position as long as I can, and when I am driven back, I shall do my duty as one in command of a light cavalry regiment should: I shall harass the enemy's flanks and rear. He'll get no rest from me."