“Burn ye, Bob, are ye attending? I said an apple o’ Sodom!”
“Why, your honour, it don’t sound a very tasty fruit.”
Sir John’s gloomy features were lightened by a passing smile.
“Ah, well,” he sighed, “Venus be kind to thee, Bob!... And to-day you begin your new duties. You will look to the comfort and welfare of the tenantry?”
“I’ll do my best, sir.”
“Aye, I’m sure you will.”
“Though your honour will be sorely missed.... And the old House o’ Dering ... all done up like noo, such paintin’ and gildin’ ... and now to go empty still! Aye, High Dering will surely miss your honour.”
“Never i’ the world, Bob!”
“And Sir Hector will likewise miss ye, sir.”