Mr. Haveloc never vouchsafed an answer to Mr. Casement's flattering remarks. He drew a chair near Margaret, and began to converse with her.
"What is he talking about, little woman?" asked Mr. Casement, after they had exchanged a few sentences in rather a low tone.
"Nothing, Sir," returned Margaret hastily.
"Faith! you are about right there," said Mr. Casement; "nothing is pretty much the amount of all the young fellows' speeches now a'days."
Mr. Haveloc started from his chair, and began to walk up and down the room. Mr. Casement followed his movements with a look of quiet satisfaction. He was never more entirely happy than when he had exasperated any one. As soon as tea was over, Mr. Grey said that he had a letter to write, which he could not put off, and that Mr. Casement must excuse him for half an hour.
"Some of your business, I suppose, Master Claude;" said that amiable gentleman nodding his head in the direction of the library.
"I write my own letters of business," said Mr. Haveloc shortly.
"What is come to you all I can't think," pursued Mr. Casement. "But I'll worm it out of Master Grey, that's my comfort. And what are you about little woman? Why don't you give us some music?"
"I am working a bag, Sir," said Margaret rising and laying it down "but I will play if you wish it."
"Do," said Mr. Casement, taking up the bag and examining it. "Mercy, how smart! Who is this for—eh?"