“Well, sir, I feel as if I ought to wait and see if Mr Lee, our new clergyman, wants the rooms, especially as there are no other apartments fit for a gentleman to be had in Carnac, and where he could get proper attention. Not that I make a profession of letting lodgings, sir. Oh, dear, no! Mr Paul is a relative, and he occupies—”
“Mamma, dear,” said the younger lady, “I don’t think this gentleman will care to hear that.”
“But how can he understand my position, Margaret, if I do not explain it?” remonstrated the elder.
“You hold out very pleasant prospects,” interposed Geoffrey, hastily. “No other apartments to be had. But suppose Mr Lee does not take them?”
“Who the deuce is Mr Lee?” said a sharp voice at the open window. “Come: what is it—terms? Haven’t you settled yet?”
“Mr Lee is the new clergyman, brother Thomas,” said the plump little lady, giving herself another smooth down, “and if he wants the rooms that Mr Owen had, dear, why of course—”
“He’ll have to want them,” said the old gentleman, sharply, as he sent a puff of smoke into the room. “I won’t have another parson in the house while I stay. If you mean to have him here, I go.”
“Oh, pray don’t talk like that, brother Thomas!” cried Mrs Mullion, hastily, her aspect showing plainly enough that she was greatly in awe of the old man. “Of course you know, dear, that I will do precisely as you wish.”
“What I wish? Do what I wish?” snapped out the old gentleman. “Do what you like. But you told me distinctly that you were very eager to let these two rooms, and I take the trouble to put myself out, and go out of my way when I had a pressing engagement with Dr Rumsey, to bring up a—a—somebody who wants them. What more would you have? You, Madge,” he added fiercely, “don’t make eyes at strangers like that: it’s rude.”
“Oh, uncle?” cried the girl, indignantly, and her face was scarlet.