"Just about as far, I should think," said Vaughan contemptuously.
"What do you propose to do about it?"
"It's likely I'd tell you." Gillie sat down to his desk and rang a bell.
"I suppose I've got to go now, eh?"
"Almost time, I should think."
"Ha, ha, ha! Capital! Well, so long! Be good."
Muir went away as heartily as he had arrived.
The bell was answered by the entrance of the housekeeper, Mrs. Mills. She was a muddle-headed, elderly woman in black silk, whom Vaughan kept because her extraordinary tactlessness amused him. She invariably managed to do and say the wrong thing at the right time. To-day it was a hot morning in July. She came in holding in her hand a little card covered with frost and robins.
"Mr. Vaughan, sir, I appened to be going through my things, and I come across this, sir. I thought pre-aps you'd like it. It is pretty."
She insisted on his taking it.