“Woman!” shouted a voice close behind her, which made her start as if she had been shot, “who authorizes you to say what your master will or will not do, before you’ve asked him? The boy is right. You are the servant, and it is not your business to choose for me whom I shall or shall not see.”
“I meant no harm, sir, I’m sure,” said the housekeeper; “but I thought you’d never——”
“My good woman,” said her master, “if I had wanted somebody to think for me, you’re the last person I should have employed. I hire you to obey orders, not to think.”
“I’m sure, sir,” said the housekeeper, whose only form of argument was reiteration, “I never thought you would have seen them——”
“Then you were wrong,” shouted her master. “I will see them. Bring them in.”
He was a tall, gaunt old man, and Robin stared at him for some minutes, wondering where he could have seen somebody very like him. At last he remembered. It was the old gentleman of the blue cloak.
The children threw off their wraps, the housekeeper helping them, and chattering ceaselessly, from sheer nervousness.
“Well, to be sure,” said she, “their dresses are pretty, too. And they seem quite a better sort of children, they talk quite genteel. I might ha’ knowed they weren’t like common mummers, but I was so flustrated hearing the bell go so late, and——”
“Are they ready?” said the old man, who had stood like a ghost in the dim light of the flaring tallow candle, grimly watching the proceedings.
“Yes, sir. Shall I take them to the kitchen, sir?”