"Lord Hartledon, what is the meaning of this?"
Lord Hartledon recognised the voice, and broke into a cold perspiration.
He gave no answer; but the countess-dowager made up for his silence. Her
temper, none of the mildest, had been considerably exasperated by the
visit of the fox-hunters; it was made worse by the arrival of Mr. Carr.
When she turned and saw what _this_ formidable interruption was, she lost
it altogether, as few, calling themselves gentlewomen, can lose it. As
she peered into the face of Dr. Ashton, her own was scarlet and yellow,
and her voice rose to a shriek.
"You prying parson, where did you spring from? Are you not ashamed
to dodge Lord Hartledon in his own house? You might be taken up and
imprisoned for it."
"Lord Hartledon," said Dr. Ashton, "I--"
"How dare you persist, I ask you?" shrieked the old woman, whilst
the young clergyman stood aghast, and Mr. Carr folded his arms, and
resolutely fixed his eyes on the floor. "Because Hartledon once had a
flirtation with your daughter, does that give you leave to haunt him as
if you were his double?"
"Madam," said Dr. Ashton, contriving still to subdue his anger, "I must,
I will speak to Lord Hartledon. Allow me to do so without disturbance.
Lord Hartledon, I wait for an answer: Are you about to marry this young
lady?"
"Yes, he is," foamed the dowager; "I tell you so.
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