"What the devil—I beg your pardon! Prefers to remain here! Well!" He muttered something that sounded extremely like an oath, then, with a shrug of his shoulders, told the hostler to take the horses out. "Thank you!" he said to Stafford, grudgingly. "I suppose my daughter is tired: very kind of you."
"Not at all," responded Stafford, politely; and he got on to Adonis, which Mr. Groves himself had led out, and rode away.
The gentleman looked after him with knitted brows.
"What is the name of that young fellow?" he asked of Groves.
"That is Mr. Stafford Orme, Sir Stephen's son, sir," replied Groves.
The gentleman was walking towards the house, but he pulled up short, his eyes narrowed themselves to slits and his thick lips closed tightly.
"A fine young fellow, sir!" said Groves, with respectful enthusiasm. "A splendid specimen of an English gentleman!"
The gentleman grunted and went on to the dining-room.
"What whim is this, Maude?" he asked, irritably.
She yawned behind her beringed hand.