“I knew it,” cried Salis to Mary, as Leo bent lower. “Candlish has sent word that he cannot come. Now, how the de—”
“Hartley!”
“Well, it’s enough to make a saint swear. How can a man carry on his parish work like this? I wish to goodness May had it to do himself. Show him in, Dally.”
The girl departed, and returned directly with the servant from the Hall, who looked stealthily at Salis, and then from Leo to Mary and back.
“Can I speak to you alone, sir?” he said.
“Yes, yes, my man, certainly. Is it anything serious?”
“Yes, sir—very, sir. I’ve come—”
“Here, this way, to my study, my man,” said Salis, rising.
“Stop!”
Salis had reached the door—his hand was on the knob, and he was about to turn it; but the sharp, commanding voice made him turn in astonishment, to see Leo standing erect, with her head thrown back, her eyes flashing, and her hand resting upon the book—closed now—and one finger shut in to mark the place.