"Thank you," she had come harshly in. "As you say, all these things may be possible. I decline them all." Then Lord Moone, whose habit of ordering masses of men probably misled him into thinking that the ordering of one young woman who says "I won't" was a comparatively simple matter, had made his pronouncement. "Very well," he had said. "Then as head of the family I order that your allowance shall be stopped till you come to your senses. You hear that, Emily?" "You mean you'll starve me out?" Louie had said, with dancing eyes. Like her father, she came up to time as long as she could stand. "I mean what I've said." "Then ring the bell, please--and don't light that cigar till I've gone. I shall be ill if you do." And Lord Moone himself had ordered the carriage in which she had turned her back on Trant. Burnett Minor, when Mrs. Lovenant-Smith had surprised the rebellion in the box-room, had not made herself more inconspicuous than had Captain Chaffinger during this scene. Indeed, probably considering that Lord Moone, his sister and Louie herself formed a quorum, he had presently been discovered to be not there. But it seemed to be the Captain's lot to receive and despatch Louie in her comings and goings, and before the carriage had reached the lodge he had stopped it and climbed in. Ordinarily, the whites of the Captain's eyes had yellowish marblings; the yellow had now deepened to the hue of cayenne. He had blown his nose repeatedly and violently, and Louie, glancing covertly at him, had suddenly had a pang. All at once he had shown his age. Somehow Louie resented his doing so. People and things you have never taken quite seriously have no right to come near the tragic. It was as if some puppet strutting within a proscenium should suddenly bleed. "Mops," he had said by-and-by, blowing his nose again, "that was a lie you told them, wasn't it?" Louie had tried to shut her eyes to Chaff's bleeding. Her hand had sought his. "The name I told them? Of course it was, you clever old Chaff, to see that." "You don't tell me that, do you, Mops?" "You?! No, poor old boy, it isn't worth while telling lies to you." "I'm glad of that, Mops----" So, for his private comfort, she had invented for Chaff quite a new lie, name, station in life and all. Then: "Oh, Mops, Mops, Mops!----" he had murmured sorrowfully. Little parties were one thing, but his Mops quite another. But her anger had stirred again. She had remembered her uncle's proposals. "Did you hear what he said--Moone? No; you'd gone out. Listen----" He had tugged unhappily at his moustache as she had told him, bringing out the words with vehemence and hate. "Well, but, Mops----" he had demurred wistfully. "What, are you going to tell me _you_ think so too?" "All right, Mops, all right, all right, old girl----"