Halcyone jumped up again and looked about for the bell. She was not going to ask where it was—she disliked stupid people herself. The old man watched her from under the penthouse of his eyebrows with a curious smile.
The bell was hidden in the carving of the mantelpiece, but she found it at last and gave it a lusty pull.
It seemed answered instantaneously by a strange-looking man,—a dark, extremely thin person with black, dull eyes.
The old man spoke to him in an unknown language and he retired silently.
"Who was that?" asked Halcyone.
"That is my servant,—he will bring tea."
"He is not English?"
"No—does that matter?"
"Of course not—but what country does he come from?"
"You must ask him someday."