The speaker was outwardly calm. But she was shaking with a righteous indignation; a brilliant red spot flamed on either cheek. It was a very haughty, stately figure that entered the library, a few moments later. "This is an unexpected pleasure," she said. "You will pardon my old-fashioned ways, but I am not accustomed to entertain strangers at this hour." "That's all right;" the head of the house laughed unsteadily. His eyes were slightly glazed and he had some difficulty in balancing himself. "It's all right, grandmother. Mr. Dashwood did not want to come; he said it wasn't quite the thing." "I'm glad of that," Lady Dashwood said haughtily. Her cold eyes swept over the figure of George Dashwood, who stood by the doorway a picture of confusion. "Mr. Dashwood was right, and as to these friends of yours----" "They're all right," the head of the house went on. "Mr. Cotton and Mr. Newfell, my grandmother. Cotton is something in the City, made a pile of money there. When he isn't making money he spends his spare time in going over old houses. I told him about this one, and he is anxious to see it. It is just the kind of place he wants to buy, and if he offers me a fancy price for it, you will have to find somewhere else to go, old lady." Lady Dashwood stood there trembling. She had no words to meet this unpardonable insult. And the speaker was quite within his right. He was in a position to sell the dower house if he chose. The head of the family had that privilege, seeing that the little property formed no part of the settled estate. "I am afraid Lady Dashwood objects," the man called Cotton said. "Indeed I should, sir," Lady Dashwood replied. "I am afraid I can't blame you so much as my--my grandson for this unpardonable intrusion." The City man flushed, but he had the grace to say nothing. The head of the house fairly tingled. "Insult be hanged," he cried, "what are you talking about? We only looked in just to give my friend Cotton some idea of the place. _I'm_ not anxious to sell. It's a thirsty night, you fellows. Ring the bell, somebody, and ask the butler for a whisky and soda." "Better not," Cotton said, "it isn't quite the thing. Besides, you have had enough already. I can see that we ought not to have come here at all." Lady Dashwood felt almost grateful to the speaker. There was silence for a moment, and then from the hall came the sound of Ralph Darnley's voice. Here was somebody at any rate who could grapple with the situation. Forgetful of her real dignity, Lady Dashwood turned away and crossed over to the hall. She was shaking from head to foot now and the tears had gathered in her eyes. "You poor dear soul," Ralph whispered, as he kissed the trembling lips. "Charles has been telling me all about it. He was so full of the matter that he almost forgot himself. So you are already enjoying the fruits of the change of proprietorship. Go back to the drawing-room and compose yourself. I will soon get rid of those men for you."