Charles disappeared. The Squire said entreatingly to Lady Pomfret:
“Don’t go, Mary. I’ll get rid of Bonsor in two minutes. The fellow has no initiative, none. I have much to say to you. Who engages servants?”
“What servants? I suppose that the master of the house engages his butler. I engage the upper women servants. Mrs. Randall engages the young maids.”
“What a mess we’re in, confound it!”
“Alas! yes.”
“Have you seen Lionel?”
“No.”
“He has the common decency to keep out of my sight. We must deal with these refractory servants first. Strikes! In my village! That we should live to see it. Shush-h-h! I hear Bonsor. His step is heavier than his wits.”
Bonsor entered, very deprecating. He bobbed his head to Lady Pomfret, greeted the Squire perfunctorily, and sat gingerly upon a chair near the desk which the Squire indicated with a wave of his hand.
“Well, Bonsor, I can see by your face that you have something unpleasant to tell me.”