In consequence of this failure in his expectations, Roland had leisure to concentrate his attention on the general company; and he did it in a slightly ungracious mood; his blood was boiling up with the awful injustice (imaginary rather than real) dealt out to the governess.
"And all because that nasty conceited little pig, Jane Greatorex, must get an education."
"What's that, Roland?"
Roland, in his indignation, had spoken so as to be overheard. He turned to see the bright face of Hamish Channing, who had entered the room with his wife on his arm.
"You here, Hamish! Well, I never!"
"I have come out of my shell for once," said Hamish. "One cannot be a hermit always, when one has an exacting wife. Mine threatened me with unheard-of penalties if I didn't bring her tonight."
"Hamish!" exclaimed Mrs. Channing. "He does nothing but talk against me, Roland. It is good for him to come out sometimes.
"I say, I can't see Annabel," cried Roland, in a most resentful tone, as he, still hoping against hope, cast his eyes in search of her over people's heads. "It's a thundering shame she is a prisoner upstairs tonight, I suppose, taking care of Jane Greatorex."
"But that's no reason why you should call the little lady names," laughed Hamish.
"I called her a little pig," avowed Roland. "I should like to call somebody else a great pig; to her face too; only she might turn me out for my bad manners. If there is one thing I hold in contempt more than another, Hamish, it is a Tyrant."