“Please, sir,” she said in a hesitating voice, “the three men who came very early this morning have come back. They’re from big papers, and I’m thinking ’twould be best for ye to see them. I promised no one should see ye before them.”
He looked at her sternly.
“You had no business to make such a promise, Elsie. I do not wish to see anybody.”
“I’m afraid that ye’ll be well advised to see them,” she said in a subdued tone; “their newspapers are read a lot in these parts, sir.”
He got up. “You’re a wise woman, Elsie. I’ll take your advice. Are they in my study?”
“Oh, no, sir. They’d be seen there. I’ve got them in the scullery.”
And it was standing in the cold, dark scullery, in which he had not been for years, that Dr. Maclean confronted the three inquisitive strangers, his anger breaking out afresh that he should be subjected to so horrible and degrading an ordeal.
As to the one thing they all so eagerly desired, he was absolutely firm.
“It is quite impossible for you to see my niece. And if you did see her, there is nothing which she could say to you that I cannot say. Ask me any questions you like, and I will try to answer them truthfully.”
And then they did ask him questions, foolish questions and wise questions, dangerous questions and harmless questions, clever questions and stupid questions! The doctor was too new to the game to ask them to read over to him what they had been writing down so busily. But at last, with infinite relief, he shook hands with each of the three and let them out, one by one, into the little yard from which ran a separate way to the high road.