“Excuse—you?” he replied with a peculiar smile; and, rising in turn he managed so badly as he hurried to the door to open it for Louise’s passage with the tray, that he and Liza, bent on the same errand, came into collision.
“Thank you, Mr Pradelle,” said Louise, quietly, as she passed out with the tray, and Liza gave him an indignant glance as she closed the door.
“Ha, ha! What a bungle!” cried Harry mockingly, as he helped himself to more ham.
George Vine was absorbed once more in the study of the Beloe.
“Never you mind, my lord the count,” said Pradelle in an undertone; “I don’t see that you get on so very well.”
Harry winced.
“What are you going to do this morning?”
“Fish!”
“Humph! well to be you,” said Harry, with a vicious bite at his bread, while his father was too much absorbed in his study even to hear. “You’re going loafing about, and I’ve got to go and turn that grindstone.”
“Which you can leave whenever you like,” said Pradelle meaningly.