"I think, sir, that you are here upon some affairs. If it is about railway shares—"
The old man was stopped short by the surprised and insolent stare of the young duke.
"I know nothing of railway shares, sir," he answered.
"Oh, you don't! Well, I did not think you did. In what other way can I oblige you?"
Indignation generally deprives a man of self-possession, but on this occasion it restored that of the embarrassed lover. Feeling that he—the descendant of a dozen dukes, whose ancestors had "come over with William the Conqueror," had served in Palestine under King Richard, had compelled King John to sign the Magna Charta, had gained glory in every generation—was about to do this rude, purse-proud old tradesman the greatest honor in asking of him his granddaughter in marriage, he said, somewhat coldly:
"Miss Haught has made me happy in the hope of her acceptance of my hand, pending your approval, and has referred me to you."
The Iron King stared at the speaker for a moment, and then said, quite calmly:
"Please to repeat that all over again, slowly and distinctly."
The duke flushed to the edges of his hair, but he repeated his proposal in plain words.
"You have asked Cora Haught to marry you?" demanded the Iron King.