"How do," said Mallien gruffly, and with an air of resenting Carrington's return greeting. "Beastly day--far too hot. Pouf! how this room smells of sheepskin. Why don't you drag Leigh out for a walk, Rupert?"
"The age of miracles is past," said the young Squire dryly. "You see that even your entrance cannot rouse the vicar from his studies."
"Vicar! Vicar!" said Mallien gruffly and tapped the parson's shoulder.
"Go away! go away! I'm busy," said Leigh peevishly; then, keeping his finger on a line of crabbed writing he had reached, he looked up. "Oh, Mr. Mallien, I beg pardon. What do you want?"
"Dorinda has brought you some flowers for the altar," said Mallien, "so I came with her. She would drag me out, although I didn't want to tire myself on this hot day."
"Is the day hot?" inquired the vicar absently. "Flowers. Thank you. Mrs. Jabber has the key of the church."
"Is Dorinda here!" questioned Hendle, making for the door with alacrity; "I must go and see her. Look after Carrington," he called back as he disappeared, and the vicar shook his head irritably at the sound of his raised voice.
Mallien did not obey his cousin's request by making himself agreeable to the visitor who was thus given into his charge. He stared at Carrington and Carrington stared at him, while Mr. Leigh droned in an undertone like a bee over his newly discovered fact of military occupation. The barrister saw before him a little man, less in height than himself and considerably stouter, dressed comfortably in a suit of loosely fitting gray homespun. Mallien's most noticeable point was the extraordinary quantity of jewelry he wore, which suggested Jewish blood. And indeed his face with its hooked nose and deeply black eyes hinted at the Hebrew. His dark hair and dark beard were flecked with gray, but his fresh, unwrinkled complexion made him appear much younger than he really was. He did not look at all an amiable person. And Carrington quite believed that Rupert had spoken truly when he had hinted at his cousin's misanthropic nature. Here assuredly was Timon of Athens in modern dress, glaring at the barrister as if he wondered why he presumed to exist. The man's manner was disagreeable and when he spoke his speech was pointedly aggressive.
"I know why you are staring," said Mr. Mallien in abrupt and unfriendly tone. "Everyone stares in the same way, confound their insolence. It's my jewelry, isn't it?"
"Why, yes!" said Carrington, matching this insolence. "You are as bedizened as a Hindoo idol on its feast day."