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"Doll-faced," snorted the old man, who had not the least idea what Terry Temple looked like, not having laid his eyes on her for the matter of years. "Dumpy, pudgy, squidge-nosed little fool. I'll run both her and her thief of a father out of the country." "An'," continued Guy Little, "I didn't exac'ly' say, m'lord, as how this Terry Temple party was after him. I said as how he was after her!
"I counted six casks, m'lord, so well as I could by the feel " "Yes, yes! And here's a couple of sovereigns for yourself all I happen to have in my pocket " Lord Rattley bustled off to the house for brandy. "England's old England, hows'ever you strike it!" chirruped the prisoner gleefully, and touched his forehead again. "See you at the Show, m' lord, maybe?
But not even old Hell-Fire Packard could get him any further. "Yes, I called," grunted the old man. "I hollered my head off at you. I want to know what you foun' out. Let's have it." Guy Little made his little butler-bow. "Your word is law, m'lord," he said, once more rigid and unbending.
"I haven't read it er Rossm Mr. Rossm er " "M'lord! Just cut it short like that. It's the English way. I'll open it. Ah, now let's see." A. TO YOU KNOW WHO. Think I know you. Wait ten days. Coming to Washington. The excitement died out of both men's faces. There was a brooding silence for a while, then the younger one said with a sigh: "Why, we can't wait ten days for the money."
"M'lord, lordship hasn't any vices," replied Saunders, with dull, matter-of-fact solemnity. "Lady Barbara makes the same complaint," thought Lord Ipsden. "It seems I have not any vices, Dr. Aberford," said he, demurely. "That is bad; nothing to get hold of. What interests you, then?" "I don't remember." "What amuses you?" "I forget." "What! no winning horse to gallop away your rents?" "No, sir!"
They always ran to answer it, after some discussion as to which of them should go. He entered and said: "Yes, m'lord?" "Send that scoundrel Hutchings to me! Send him at once!" roared his master. "Yes, m'lord," said Holloway, and hurried away. He found James Hutchings in his pantry, told him that their master wanted him, and added that he was in a tearing rage.
"I suppose I needn't say it is really you, m'lord," he remarked, when the visitor was seated in the drawing-room, "I am afraid the mistress will be angry." "Don't trouble about that, Somes. Tell her Lord Caranby is here," and the butler, bursting to tell the news in the servants' hall, went away in a great hurry. Cuthbert remained seated near the table on which stood an electric lamp.
The golden head shook ever so slightly; again the big hand went toward the small one, then suddenly dropped. "Right this way m'lord m'lady!" The face of the convict abruptly changed; fury, hatred, a blind instinct to kill were unmistakably revealed in his countenance as he heard the bland voice of the police agent.
"An' I'm still hopin' he's goin' to be a damn' good Packard at that! But you go on, Guy Little. What else?" "Sorta reckless, he is," resumed Guy Little. "But that's purty near the same thing as havin' the gamblin' spirit, ain't it? Nex' an' final, m'lord, he's got what you might call an eye for a good-lookin' girl." "The devil you say, Guy Little!"
Gradually an inarticulate melancholy succeeded; he wept gently at times; would stop in the middle of the road, say firmly 'No, no, no, and then fall on his back: or else address me solemnly as 'M'lord' and fall on his face by way of variety. I am afraid I was not always so gentle with the little pig as I might have been, but really the position was unbearable.
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