“Yes, it was very rude,” he said drily. “Perhaps you wouldn’t mind taking Grey home with you? I don’t think I shall come just yet.”
“Certainly, I will take the dear child home,” replied Mrs Bolter. “I don’t think it is proper for her to be here so late.”
“Humph! Who’s she with?” said the old merchant.
“The Princess,” was the reply.
“Oh, she’s all right then. Good-night, Bolter, if you must go. Won’t you have just one wee drappie mair?”
The doctor shook his head with Spartan fortitude, and buttoned up his coat, but only to unbutton it directly.
“Good-night, Stuart; we’ll take your little lass home.”
“Thankye; do,” was the reply, and the dry old Scot sat back in his chair chuckling, as he saw the doctor marched off.
“Seen Helen about, Stuart?” said Mr Perowne, coming up five minutes later.
“No; not for an hour.”