Ralph strode into the library. His fingers were itching to be at the throats of the men. But that could not be. He was so angry that his politeness was exaggerated. "Lady Dashwood is very sorry," he said, "but you will have to excuse her tonight. She is not accustomed to visitors, especially at this time in the evening. Sir Vincent, your display of family affection is a little too exuberant." "_I_ did not want to come, sir," Cotton said sulkily. "Thank you; therefore you will not mind going. Goodnight, gentlemen. Goodnight, Mr. Dashwood. You will pardon me, I am sure. Well?" For the head of the family sat sullenly in his chair though the rest had got beyond the shadow of the front door by this time. He looked up defiantly at Ralph. CHAPTER XLVII. "HOW LONG, HOW LONG!" "If it isn't a rude question," he said, "who are you? What do you mean by interfering in this way?" "It does not matter in the least who I am," Ralph replied. "To put it bluntly, Lady Dashwood has asked me to get rid of you. Until you have disposed of this portion of the property, the house belongs to her ladyship. Your dissolute companions have already gone. I don't blame them, however. I have no doubt that they expected a congenial welcome here. They probably drew a wrong picture altogether of Lady Dashwood. They had the grace to be ashamed of themselves." "Once more," Dashwood said with drunken gravity, "who are you?" "As I said before, it does not in the least matter," Ralph replied. "At the present moment I am acting on behalf of Lady Dashwood. I know that it is not the slightest good to appeal to your better feelings, for the simple reason that they don't exist. Will you be so good as to go, or am I to resort to force?" Dashwood laughed. The hot blood mounted to Ralph's face and the full force of his passion tingled to his finger-tips. He threw open the long window that led to the lawn; then he advanced to the figure lounging in the chair. He wasted no time in argument, but bent over the chair and dragged Dashwood out by the throat. A moment later the latter was flung violently on to the grass, where he lay dazed and confused for a moment. Presently he picked himself up, and loafed after his companions, who were noisily walking down the avenue. It was a relief to Ralph to know that the fellow was not seriously hurt. As if nothing had happened, he made his way to the dining-room. Lady Dashwood was pacing up and down the room, her face white and set, her eyes full of flaming anger. All the fiery blood of the race was raging in her veins now. "So they have gone," she cried. "A pretty outrage indeed! I shall have the villagers here next dropping in on their way from the inn of a Saturday night. Have men of that class no manners, no respect for the feelings of others?"