"And for the Lord's sake be quick about it! The expense of all this flummery is something cruel. There'll be nothing left to divide when it's all over if you can't—"
"There's somebody coming up the drive," said Lottie, who was gazing indifferently out of the window.
A few minutes later the door was opened by the captain's butler, an elderly gentleman of benevolent appearance. A student of physiognomy would have put him down as a rather eccentric and easily-imposed-upon philanthropist. (He had made his living almost exclusively out of this fact for the past thirty years.)
"Young feller to see you, Cap," he announced, having first satisfied himself that, saving the presence of the Principal Boy, his employer was alone.
"About the motor?"
"Yes."
"Show him in."
The butler retired, and presently returned, ushering a young man, squarely built and black of hair, with serious blue eyes and a healthy brown face.
"I came to see if you were still in want of a chauffeur, sir," he said in reply to the captain's interrogation. "I have been employed at the Gresley works."
"I do want a chauffeur" replied the warrior on the hearthrug; "but how am I to know that you will do, my man?"