“James,” calls out that worthy, who is seated in the room on an easy armchair in front of the fireplace, with his feet against the chimney-piece, “what bell’s that?”
“My lord’s, sir,” is the laconic reply from the lackey outside.
“Oh! ah! tha-a-anks. Let him ring again.”
The bell does peal again, this time furiously, and Stuggins, with a face of disgust, pulls his feet down from the chimney-piece.
“My word! what a hard time of it we have’s,” he ejaculates to himself, as he rises slowly from his seat to go upstairs.
On reaching Lord Westray’s sanctum, however, his face is composed and affable.
“This is the second time I’ve rung,” exclaims Lord Westray angrily. “Surely, Stuggins, there is some one in the house to answer the bell.”
“I was in my room, my lord, and did not hear it,” responds Stuggins in a conciliatory voice.
“Has no one called yet, Stuggins?”
“No one, my lord.”