“My very good sir,” returned Bellew, shaking his head in gentle reproof, “really, you seem to forget that you are not addressing one of your grooms, or footmen,—­consequently you force me to remind you of the fact; furthermore,—­”

“That is no answer!” said Mr. Cassilis, his gloved hands tight-clenched upon his hunting-crop,—­his whole attitude one of menace.

“Furthermore,” pursued Bellew placidly, settling the tobacco in his pipe with his thumb, “you can continue to—­er demand, until all’s blue, and I shall continue to lie here, and smoke, and gaze up at the smiling serenity of heaven.”

The black brows of Mr. Cassilis met in a sudden frown, he tossed his whip aside, and took a sudden quick stride towards the recumbent Bellew with so evident an intention, that Small Porges shrank instinctively further within the encircling arm.

But, at that psychic moment, very fortunately for all concerned, there came the sound of a quick, light step, and Anthea stood between them.

“Mr. Cassilis!—­Mr. Bellew!” she exclaimed, her cheeks flushed, and her bosom heaving with the haste she had made, “pray whatever does this mean?”

Bellew rose to his feet, and seeing Cassilis was silent, shook his head and smiled: 

“Upon my word, I hardly know, Miss Anthea.  Our friend Mr. Cassilis seems to have got himself all worked up over the—­er—­sale, I fancy—­”

“The furniture!” exclaimed Anthea, and stamped her foot with vexation.  “That wretched furniture!  Of course you explained your object in buying it, Mr. Bellew?”

“Well, no,—­we hadn’t got as far as that.”

Now when he said this, Anthea’s eyes flashed sudden scorn at him, and she curled her lip at him, and turned her back upon him: 

“Mr. Bellew bought my furniture because he intends to set up house-keeping—­he is to be married—­soon, I believe.”

“When the moon is at the full!” nodded Bellew.

“Married!” exclaimed Mr. Cassilis, his frown vanishing as if by magic.  “Oh, indeed—­”

“I am on my way to the hop-gardens, if you care to walk with me, Mr. Cassilis?” and, with the words, Anthea turned, and, as he watched them walk away, together,—­Bellew noticed upon the face of Mr. Cassilis an expression very like triumph, and, in his general air, a suggestion of proprietorship that jarred upon him most unpleasantly.

“Why do you frown so, Uncle Porges?”

“I—­er—­was thinking, nephew.”

“Well, I’m thinking, too!” nodded Small Porges, his brows knitted portentously.  And thus they sat, Big, and Little Porges, frowning in unison at space for quite a while.

“Are you quite sure you never told my Auntie Anthea that you were going to marry her?” enquired Small Porges, at last.

“Quite sure, comrade,—­why?”

“Then how did she know you were going to marry her, an’ settle down?”

“Marry—­her, and settle down?”