The major stuck his stick into the turf with a furious stab, as if he had a feud with mother earth; then, dragging round the creel he banged the bright trowel with which he had been gesticulating into the basket, and giving the wicker a swing back, caught up his stick and strode away without a word. "Confound his insolence!" cried Sir John furiously, "I won't have it. My own brother: my junior by two hours! A man who has been petted and pampered too, because--because he is my brother--because he has been in the wars--because--because--because he is--my brother--because--hang it all!" he roared, stamping heavily on the turf. "What an abominably hasty temper I have got. He'll pack up and go, and--here!--hi!--Jem!-- Jem!" The baronet was stout, but it was the active, muscular stoutness of a man constantly in the open air: he did not suffer from the abnormal size of that which Punch's fashionable tailor called his middle-aged customer's chest, so that it required little effort on his part to set off at a trot after his brother, who heard his shouts and his pursuing steps, but paid no heed to each summons; for, with head erect, and his stick carried as a military man bears his sabre on the route, he marched steadily on with the regular swinging pace of a well-drilled soldier. "Jem! Hold hard! Jem, old fellow," cried the baronet, overtaking him; but the major kept on without turning his head. "Jem! Here, I beg your pardon. I lost my temper. I'm a passionate old fool." Still there was no response, and the major passed on; but his brother now took tight hold of his arm. "Jem! Come, I say. Don't you hear me? I beg your pardon, I say. Hang it all, old boy, do you want me to go down upon my knees." "No, Jack," cried the major, stopping short and facing him, "I don't; but you told me I'd better go." "Yes: in a passion; but you know I don't mean what I say. Here, shake hands, old boy. I say, though, what a peppery old fire-eater you are!" "Am I, Jack?" said the major, with a grim smile. "No, no; I mean I am. Look here, old chap, I'm sure there's a membrane, or a strap, or a nerve, or something of that sort, given way inside me. It lets my temper out, and then I say things I don't mean." "It must have given way a great many years ago, Jack," said the major, drily. "Oh, come, Jem! Hang it all, old fellow, I've begged your pardon. I've humbled myself to you. Don't jump on a man when he's down. 'Tisn't chivalrous; it isn't indeed." "Then you don't want me to go?" "Go? Now look here, Jem, do try and be reasonable. What should I do without you?" "Well then, I'll stop this time; but really, Jack, if ever you insult me again like that, I can have my old chambers in St James's, close to the club, and I shall go back to town." "Go along with you!" cried Sir John. "Don't talk nonsense. We're getting old boys now, Jem, and you'll stop along with me to the end."