’Chickerel ought not to have kept us in ignorance of this—­of course he ought not!’ said Mrs. Doncastle, as soon as they were left alone.

‘I don’t see why not,’ replied Mr. Doncastle, who took the matter very coolly, as was his custom.

‘Then she herself should have let it be known.’

’Nor does that follow.  You didn’t tell Mrs. Petherwin that your grandfather narrowly escaped hanging for shooting his rival in a duel.’

’Of course not.  There was no reason why I should give extraneous information.’

’Nor was there any reason why she should.  As for Chickerel, he doubtless felt how unbecoming it would be to make personal remarks upon one of your guests—­Ha-ha-ha!  Well, well—­Ha-ha-ha-ha!’

‘I know this,’ said Mrs. Doncastle, in great anger, ’that if my father had been in the room, I should not have let the fact pass unnoticed, and treated him like a stranger!’

’Would you have had her introduce Chickerel to us all round?  My dear Margaret, it was a complicated position for a woman.’

‘Then she ought not to have come!’

’There may be something in that, though she was dining out at other houses as good as ours.  Well, I should have done just as she did, for the joke of the thing.  Ha-ha-ha!—­it is very good—­very.  It was a case in which the appetite for a jest would overpower the sting of conscience in any well-constituted being—­that, my dear, I must maintain.’

‘I say she should not have come!’ answered Mrs. Doncastle firmly.  ’Of course I shall dismiss Chickerel.’

’Of course you will do no such thing.  I have never had a butler in the house before who suited me so well.  It is a great credit to the man to have such a daughter, and I am not sure that we do not derive some lustre of a humble kind from his presence in the house.  But, seriously, I wonder at your short-sightedness, when you know the troubles we have had through getting new men from nobody knows where.’

Neigh, perceiving that the breeze in the atmosphere might ultimately intensify to a palpable black squall, seemed to think it would be well to take leave of his uncle and aunt as soon as he conveniently could; nevertheless, he was much less discomposed by the situation than by the active cause which had led to it.  When Mrs. Doncastle arose, her husband said he was going to speak to Chickerel for a minute or two, and Neigh followed his aunt upstairs.

Presently Doncastle joined them.  ‘I have been talking to Chickerel,’ he said.  ’It is a very curious affair—­this marriage of his daughter and Lord Mountclere.  The whole situation is the most astounding I have ever met with.  The man is quite ill about the news.  He has shown me a letter which has just reached him from his son on the same subject.  Lord Mountclere’s brother and this young man have actually gone off together to try to prevent the wedding, and Chickerel has asked to be allowed to go himself, if he can get soon enough to the station to catch the night mail.  Of course he may go if he wishes.’