I answered what he said in these plain terms: "Sergeant Cuff, I consider your last observation as an insult to my lady and her daughter!" "Mr.Betteredge, consider it as a warning to yourself, and you will be nearer the mark." Hot and angry as I was, the infernal confidence with which he gave me that answer closed my lips.
I walked to the window to compose myself.

The rain had given over; and, who should I see in the court-yard, but Mr.Begbie, the gardener, waiting outside to continue the dog-rose controversy with Sergeant Cuff.
"My compliments to the Sairgent," said Mr.Begbie, the moment he set eyes on me.

"If he's minded to walk to the station, I'm agreeable to go with him." "What!" cries the Sergeant, behind me, "are you not convinced yet ?" "The de'il a bit I'm convinced!" answered Mr.Begbie.
"Then I'll walk to the station!" says the Sergeant.
"Then I'll meet you at the gate!" says Mr.Begbie.
I was angry enough, as you know--but how was any man's anger to hold out against such an interruption as this?
Sergeant Cuff noticed the change in me, and encouraged it by a word in season.

"Come! come!" he said, "why not treat my view of the case as her ladyship treats it?
Why not say, the circumstances have fatally misled me ?" To take anything as her ladyship took it was a privilege worth enjoying--even with the disadvantage of its having been offered to me by Sergeant Cuff.

I cooled slowly down to my customary level.