The clergyman’s widow curtsied very stiffly without moving a muscle of her face.
“This is Mrs. Sterling, who manages our house, Alick,” said his mother, gravely.
“Mrs. Sterling, I am very happy to have the honor of knowing you, and I am persuaded that the house is managed to perfection,” said the young man, bowing.
The widow curtsied more stiffly than before, and then withdrew from the room.
“I say, Anna, I wouldn’t kiss her again for the best hunter in your father’s stables; my lips got frost-bitten by that first encounter,” whispered the young man, with a smile, to his cousin.
“Served you right, Alick. You should look before you leap,” laughed Anna.
“That mightn’t always prevent my leaping, especially if the feat seemed a dangerous one, though it would have done so in this case, I admit.”
They were interrupted by the arrival of another guest—an uninvited and unexpected, if not an unwelcome one.
The door was opened by a servant, who grimly announced:
“Mr. Richard Hammond.”