"He'd be proud, sir, if you'd be so kind. I often goes down there myself for a bit of a chat about the old days." With a sigh the old butler passed on, and Vane returned to his lunch. . . .
"You seem to know our archaic friend," remarked the officer sitting next him. "He's a dear old thing. . . ."
"He's one of a dying breed," said Vane shortly. "I would trust old
Robert with everything in the world that I possessed. . . ."
"That so?" returned the other. "Has he been here long?"
"To my certain knowledge for twenty-five years, and I believe longer. It almost broke his heart when he heard that Lord Forres was going to sell the place." Vane continued his lunch in silence, and suddenly a remark from the other side of the table struck his ears.
"I say, old Side-whiskers hasn't given me my fair whack of beer." It was a youngster speaking, and the remark was plainly audible to the old butler two places away. For a moment his face quivered, and then he returned to the speaker.
"I beg your pardon, sir," he remarked quietly. "Let me fill your glass."
"Thanks, old sport. That's a bit better looking." Vane turned to his neighbour with an amused smile.
"Truly the old order changeth," remarked the other thoughtfully. "And one's inclined to wonder if it's changing for the better."
"Unfortunately in any consideration of that sort one is so hopelessly biassed by one's own personal point of view," returned Vane.