“Ah thank you,” said Mr. Armour aloud. To himself he added, “Proud, passionate, restless girl. She will never forgive me for not liking her. She has her father’s face and her mother’s disposition.”
CHAPTER XIII
DR. CAMPERDOWN MAKES A MORNING CALL
Old Polypharmacy, Dr. Camperdown’s horse, attached to a sleigh, was pegging slowly out one of the Arm roads on the day after his master’s visit to Vivienne.
The afternoon was fine and brilliantly sunny, and Polypharmacy unharried by a check-rein, and almost happy for once that he had blinders on, kept his head down and his eyes half shut, on account of the dazzling glare of the sun on the white fields of snow.
If Polypharmacy was half asleep, his master was certainly very wide awake. He sat in a stooping attitude, his body responding to the bumps and jerks of the little open sleigh bobbing over the hillocks of snow, and his keen, bright eyes going like an eagle’s over in the direction of Pinewood. When they reached the sullen, dark semicircle of evergreen surrounding it, he slapped the reins smartly over the back of his lazy quadruped, and ejaculated: “Hie on, Polypharmacy, and hear my programme—to have my delayed conversation with my lady and get back to town by five. Now comport yourself accordingly.”
Polypharmacy, with a disapproving toss of his head at his master’s haste, yet thought it better to quicken his pace and was soon trotting through the lodge gateway and up the drive to the house.
Arrived in front of the hall door, Camperdown sprang out of the sleigh and attaching a weight to the head of his horse rang a smart peal on the bell that brought a maid tripping to the door.
“I want to see Mrs. Colonibel,” he said in his usual lordly fashion and striding past her into the house. “Is she at home?”
The girl clung to the door handle. “No, sir, she isn’t at home—that is, she doesn’t want to see any one.”
“She’ll see me,” he said. “Take me to her.”