“Quite, I thank you, Madam.”
“I believe my mother wishes to talk with you of Jack Flint, Mr Edmundson.”
“Yes, Madam?”
“The lad hath been well spoken of to her for the under-gardener’s boy’s place. I think she wished to have your opinion of him.”
“Yes, Madam.”
“Is the boy of a choleric disposition?”
“Possibly, Madam.”
“But what think you, Mr Edmundson?”
“Madam, I—ah—I cannot say, Madam.”
“I think I see Mr Lamb beckoning to you,” observed Gatty, wishful to relieve the poor gauche chaplain from his uncomfortable position.