There was the essential butler, too. She felt sure that the man bending over the sideboard was a butler; busy, no doubt, with work about which she was quite ignorant. She drew near to ask him the time, and was surprised to see him stuffing cigars into his pocket from three or four boxes that lay in a drawer. She didn’t know whether this was proper, whether it was part of a butler’s proper functions; but when she saw the man’s face, and observed his stealthy and hurried manner, she grew certain that he was stealing. One of those society thieves of whom she had read!
He was in evening dress, and he had some sort of perfume about him. He was a slender little man with neat, snow-white hair and a dapper white mustache. His face was bland, with a long upper lip that gave it a humorous look, and intelligent blue eyes.
He turned suddenly and saw her.
"Well!" he cried. "Upon my word! And who are you?"
"That’s my business," said Angelica.
This was her idea of a non-committal answer. She could not decide whether he was a servant, a member of the family, or merely an outside thief who had dropped in, and she was anxious to make no avoidable mistakes.
"Of course it is!" he replied, cheerfully. "No doubt I’ll learn in the course of time. But perhaps you’ll enlighten me as to your status?"
She didn’t understand him, and she scowled.
"Perhaps you’ll tell me what you’re doing here?" he inquired.
"Well, what are you doing here?" she returned.