"Where's Mrs. Barley?"
"She is gone indoors, sir."
"And George Heneage. Where's he?"
"He went in also, sir. John said some visitors were waiting to see Mrs. Barley."
And to that he made no rejoinder, but went on with Philip King.
Nothing more occurred that day to disturb the peace of the house. A gentleman, who called in the afternoon, was invited to dine, and stayed. Mrs. Edwin Barley rang for me as soon as she went up to the drawing-room. I thought how lovely she looked in her black net dress, and with the silver ornaments on her neck and arms.
"What did you think of Mr. Philip King's temper this morning, Anne?" she asked, as she stood near the fire and sipped the cup of coffee that John had brought in.
"Oh, Selina! I never was so alarmed before."
"You little goose! But it was a specimen, was it not, of gentlemanly bearing?"
"I think—I mean I thought—that it was not Mr. King who was in fault," I said; not, however, liking to say it.