“Yes, m’ lady.”
Sir Hampton rustled his paper very loudly, rolled his head in his cravat till it crackled again, and looked cross. Then he strode to the table, took his seat, and began methodically to open the letter-bag and sort the letters; and then, in the midst of the sopping process and the exclamations of her ladyship, a door was heard to open, steps pattered over the hall floor, there was a babble of pleasant voices, a scuffling as of hats and baskets being thrown on to a table, and then the breakfast-room door opened, and two young girls hurried into the room.
“Nearly twenty minutes past nine, my dears,” said Sir Hampton, consulting his watch.
“Ah! so late, papa?” said one, hurrying up to kiss Lady Rea, and receive a hearty hug in return.
“Oh, never mind,” said the other, following her sister’s suit, and vigorously returning the maternal hug. “We’ve had such a jolly walk. Oh, ma, how well you look this morning!”
“Do I, my love? There, Edward—that will do. Now, the poached eggs and the turkey, quick!”
“Yes, m’ lady,” said Edward.
And he disappeared, as Sir Hampton was forgetting to be stiff for a few minutes, as he returned the salute of his eldest girl, Valentina.
“I’m sorry we’re late, papa; but we went farther than we meant.”
“But you know, Tiny,” said Sir Hampton, “I like punctuality.”