He smiled. "Thank you, Miss Brian. You didn't want to give in, did you? But I undertake that you will not be sorry."
"Hullo, Jacob!" blared Sheppard's voice suddenly across the room. "What are you doing over there, you rascal? Thought I shouldn't see you, eh? Ah, you're a deep one, you are! I daresay now you've made up your mind that that young woman is a princess in disguise. She isn't. She's just my step-daughter, and a very cheap article, I assure you, Jake,--very cheap indeed!"
The roar of laughter that greeted this sally filled the room, drowning any further remarks. Sheppard stood in the centre, swaying a little, looking round on the assembled company with a facetious grin.
Jake Bolton rose and went to him. He stood with him for a moment, and Maud, shivering in her corner, marvelled that he did not look mean and insignificant beside the other's great bulk. She wondered what he said. It was only a few words, and they were not apparently uttered with much urgency. But Sheppard's grin died away, and she fancied that for a moment--only for a moment--he looked a little sheepish. Then he clapped a great hand upon Bolton's shoulder.
"All right. All right. It's for you to make the running. Come along, ladies and gentlemen! Let us feed!"
There was a general move, and a tall, lanky young man with a white face and black hair that shone like varnish slouched up to Maud.
"I don't see why Bolton should have all the plums," he said. "May I have the honour of conducting you to the supper table?"
She was on her feet. She looked at him with a disdain so withering that the young man wilted visibly before her.
"No offence meant, I'm sure," he said, shuffling his feet. "But I thought--as you were being so pally with Jake Bolton--you wouldn't object to being pally with me."
Maud said nothing. She was in fact so quivering with rage that speech would have been difficult.