"Were there ever two women yet with a quarrel between them," thought
the old gentleman, "who didn't want to drag a man into it? Let them drag
_me_ in, if they can!"

Arnold advanced a step, and modestly announced himself. "I hope I am not
in the way, Sir Patrick?"

"In the way? of course not! Bless my soul, how serious the boy looks!
Are _you_ going to appeal to me as the head of the family next?"

It was exactly what Arnold was about to do. But it was plain that if he
admitted it just then Sir Patrick (for some unintelligible reason) would
decline to listen to him. He answered cautiously, "I asked leave to
consult you in private, Sir; and you kindly said you would give me the
opportunity before I left Windygates?"

"Ay! ay! to be sure. I remember. We were both engaged in the serious
business of croquet at the time--and it was doubtful which of us did
that business most clumsily. Well, here is the opportunity; and here
am I, with all my worldly experience, at your service. I have only one
caution to give you. Don't appeal to me as 'the head of the family.' My
resignation is in Lady Lundie's hands."

He was, as usual, half in jest, half in earnest. The wry twist of humor
showed itself at the corners of his lips. Arnold was at a loss how to
approach Sir Patrick on the subject of his niece without reminding him
of his domestic responsibilities on the one hand, and without setting
himself up as a target for the shafts of Sir Patrick's wit on the other.
In this difficulty, he committed a mistake at the outset. He hesitated.