When we had played a couple of sets it was Mr. Blother who stopped us.
"I think you have done enough for the present," he said, wiping his heated brow. "Thank you very much, Mr. Howard, for playing so badly. I have seldom enjoyed a game more. Now I think you can both manage to polish off some of that hock cup."
I was quite ready to do so. I rather spoilt the good impression I had made on Mr. Blother by asking if he did not feel inclined for a drink himself. He withered me with his eye, and stalked off indoors, followed by the indignant Lord Arthur, who said to me as he passed:
"You seem to have brought very queer ideas of behaviour with you, wherever you have come from."
Miriam too looked at me doubtfully when we were once more left alone together. "I know you only meant it for fun," she said, "but Mr. Blother is so kind and good that it is a shame to tease him."
"But don't you think he would like a drink?" I asked. "You saw how awfully hot he was."
"Of course he would like it," she said. "That is why I think it is too bad to tease him."
I enjoyed my own drink a good deal. Mr. Blother was a king of cup-makers.
Miriam sipped only half a glass, and I was careful not to press her to drink any more. I was quite capable of emptying the rest of the jug myself, and poured out a second glass, with the remark that I had not meant to offend Mr. Blother, and I would now try to make it up to him.
This pleased her, and she said, with her delightful frank and friendly smile: "You are really awfully good, and I am sure the servants will adore you. We do our best to treat them well, but I am afraid we do grumble a lot, and you seem to do things to please them quite naturally."