"All over—with Miss Mountjoy?" Then Anderson began to tell the whole story; but before he had got half through, or a quarter through, another message came from Sir Magnus. "Sir Magnus is becoming very angry indeed," whispered the butler. "He says that Mr. Arbuthnot is to go back."
"I'd better go, or I shall catch it."
"What's up with him, Richard?" asked Anderson.
"Well, if you ask me, Mr. Anderson, I think he's—a-suspecting of something."
"What does he suspect?"
"I think he's a-thinking that perhaps you are having a jolly time of it." Richard had known his master many years, and could almost read his inmost thoughts. "I don't say as it so, but that's what I am thinking."
"You tell him I ain't. You tell him I've a bad bilious headache, and that the air in the garden does it good. You tell him that I mean to have something to eat up-stairs when my head is better; and do you mind and let me have it, and a bottle of claret."
With this the butler went back, and so did Arbuthnot, after asking one other question: "I'm so sorry it isn't all serene with Miss Mountjoy?"
"It isn't then. Don't mind now, but it isn't serene. Don't say a word about her; but she has done me. I think I shall get leave of absence and go away for two months. You'll have to do all the riding, old fellow. I shall go,—but I don't know where I shall go. You return to them now, and tell them I've such a bilious headache I don't know which way to turn myself."
Arbuthnot went back, and found Sir Magnus quarrelling grievously with the butler. "I don't think he's doing anything as he shouldn't," the butler whispered, having seen into his master's mind.