“Oh, I beg pardon, Master Jack, sir,” said Edward reproachfully. “I said I’d go, and I was going.”
“Silence, sir!” cried Sir John, frowning. “Now, Jack, he would not go?”
“I was angry, father—and—and—”
“And you threw this book at him, and broke the pane of glass?”
“Yes, father,” said the boy, who was now scarlet, as he stood trembling with excitement and mortification.
“Humph!” ejaculated Sir John, crossing to raise the very short skirt of his brown velveteen Norfolk jacket, and stand with his hands behind him in front of the fire. “Pick up that book, Edward.”
“Yes, Sir John.”
“And tell one of the housemaids to come and sweep up the pieces.”
“Yes, Sir John,” said the man, moving toward the door.
“Stop! What does that signal to Mr Jack mean?”