"I don't care about that. Out you go to-morrow. I'll give you till to-morrow."
"I congratulate you," said Jimmy. "One of the oldest houses in England."
"What do you mean?"
"I gathered from what you said that you had bought the Castle. Isn't that so? If it still belongs to Lord Dreever, don't you think you ought to consult him before revising his list of guests?"
McEachern looked steadily at him. His manner became quieter.
"Oh, you take that tone, do you?"
"I don't know what you mean by 'that tone.' What tone would you take if a comparative stranger ordered you to leave another man's house?"
McEachern's massive jaw protruded truculently in the manner that had scared good behavior into brawling East Siders.
"I know your sort," he said. "I'll call your bluff. And you won't get till to-morrow, either. It'll be now."
"'Why should we wait for the morrow? You are queen of my heart to-night," murmured Jimmy, encouragingly.