"It is not creditable," pursued old Cleverdon, "that your name should be brought into men's mouths about a vulgar brawl over some village drab or house wench." The blood surged into Anthony's face, he laid down his knife and looked steadily across the table at his father. "On that score," said he, "you may set your mind at rest. There has been no brawl over any village wench." "I can quite understand," said the father, "that Fox Crymes was jealous and did not measure words. He can pepper and spice his speeches till they burn as cantharides. What is he beside you? If you cast a fancy here or there, and there be naught serious in it, and it interferes with his sport, he must bear it. But, Tony, it is high time you was married. We must have no more of these wrangles. Whose name came up between you? Was it his sister's? I can well understand he does not relish her marriage. There has ever been rough water between them. She has the property--and when old Justice Crymes dies--where will he be? Was that the occasion of the dispute?" "No, father, it was not." "Then it was not about Julian?" "About Julian? Certainly not." "Nor about some village girl?" "Nor about any village girl, as I have said." "Then what was it about? or rather, about whom was it?" "There is no reason why you should not know," answered Anthony, with coolness, "though that is a side matter. Fox told me that a suitable ornament for my cap was a coxcomb. That is why I struck him." The old man laughed out. "You did well to chastise him for that." "As you asked what girl's name was brought up, I will tell you," said Anthony. "It was that of Urith Malvine." "Urith Malvine!" scoffed old Cleverdon, his eyes twinkling malevolently. "Not surprised at that light hussy bringing herself into men's mouths in a tavern." "Father!" exclaimed the young man, "not a word against her. I will not bear that from you or from any man." "You will not bear it!" almost screamed old Anthony. "You--you! make yourself champion of a beggar brat like that?" "Did you hear my words?" said the young man, standing up. "No one--not even you--shall speak against her. It was because Fox sneered at her that I struck him; he might have scoffed at me, and I would have passed that over." "And you threaten me? You will knock out my eye with your tags?" "I merely warn you, father, that I will not suffer her name to be improperly used. I cannot raise my hand against you, but I will leave the room." "It is high time you were married. By the Lord! you shall be married. I will not be rasped like this." "I will marry when I see fit," said Anthony. "The fitness is now," retorted his father. "When a young gallant begins to squabble at village mug-houses about----" "Father!" "The near time is ripe. I will see Squire Crymes about it to-morrow." "I am not going to take Julian Crymes." "You shall take whom I choose." "I am to marry--not you, father; accordingly, the choice lies with me."