“If you please, sir, the bailiff, Mr. Prowt, is here, asking to see you.”
“Let him come in here,” said Ran with a smile.
A moment later the bailiff entered, took off his hat, bowed profoundly to the young squire, and stood waiting.
“Take a seat, Mr. Prowt, if you please. You wished to see me, I am told,” said Ran pleasantly, though hardly able to control the smile that lurked in the corners of his eyes and lips.
“Yes, sir,” replied the bailiff, sitting down and placing his hat on the floor between his feet.
“Well?” inquired Ran after an awkward pause.
“Well, squire, if there is anything amiss I hope you will excuse it. I really did not expect you down last evening, and made no preparations to meet you. I am told by the head groom that there was no carriage sent to the station at Chuxton.”
“It does not matter in the least, Mr. Prowt,” said Ran with a boyish twinkle in his eyes that he could not suppress.
“Oh, yes, begging your pardon, squire, but it matters very much. I wish to set myself right with you, sir. I wish to tell you that it was all the neglect and carelessness of them telegraph people in Chuxton not forwarding your dispatch in time. You must, in course, sent it yesterday morning to announce your arrival in the evening, but I never got it until this blessed morning, when I thought that it was this evening you were coming. And I did not know any better until I came over here and stopped at the stable to tell Hobbs to be sure to send the chariot to meet you. And he told me that you were already here—that you had arrived last night. I don’t think I ever was so knocked over in my life. And no one to meet you! And no ceremonies befitting the reception of the Squire of Haymore and his bride!”
“It is all right. Don’t trouble yourself,” said Ran, now laughing outright. “Come and dine with me this evening.”