'You have been in no hurry to do so,' said Mrs. Lindsay, with a cold smile.
'My uncle at Merlwood was so hospitable,' replied Roland, reddening a little. Could he say to Mrs. Lindsay that her presence had kept him away from Earlshaugh to the last moment, or refer to the new influence of Annot Drummond on himself? 'By-the-bye,' said he abruptly, 'I met a fellow at the door—Mr. Hawkey Sharpe by name, it seems—who I understand has been installed here as a kind of steward or general factotum.'
'What of him?'
'Only that I have made up my mind that he shall march from this, and pretty quick too!'
'There may be some difficulties about that,' replied Mrs. Lindsay, with a hectic flush crossing her pale cheek, and a sharp glitter in her cold gray eyes.
'Difficulties—how? With old MacWadsett?'
'With more than him.'
'What do you mean? By Jove, we shall soon see.'
'What we shall see,' muttered Mrs. Lindsay under her sharp teeth; but Roland, who could not be perfectly suave with her, now asked sharply:
'Why was there not a vehicle—trap—phaeton, or anything else, sent to meet me at the station?'