"At present I am. It may be that I shall stay but for a short while. I cannot say yet. We artists travel about from village to village, from country to country, finding subjects for our pencil. I have lately been in the Channel Islands."
"Master says he is not particularly expecting Mr. Atherly to-day, sir," interposed Hobbs, returning; "but he thinks it likely he may be coming in. He'll get here about one o'clock if he does come."
The Master of Greylands nodded in reply. "I suppose, Hobbs, Squire Dobie is not allowed to see anyone?"
"Not yet, sir."
Mr. Castlemaine left the room, saluting the stranger at the breakfast table. Hobbs followed, to attend him to the door.
"What's the name of the young man in the coffee-room?" he asked, standing for a moment on the steps. "He seems to be a nice young fellow."
"North, sir. Mr. George North. He came in last night by the Swallow coach."
"He says he is an artist."
"Oh, does he, sir!" returned the waiter in an accent of mingled surprise and disappointment. "I'm sure I took him to be a gentleman."
Mr. Castlemaine smiled to himself at the words. Hobbs' ideas, he thought, were probably running on the artists who went about painting signboards.