The question came from Hewitt, who had looked in to ask for orders for the morning, arousing his master from a curious train of thought.
"I don't mind a drop of hot brandy and water, Hewitt. Half a glass. Something or other seems to have given me the shivers. Is it a cold night?"
"No, Sir Karl; the night's rather warm than cold."
"Has my mother any particular trouble or worry upon her, Hewitt, do you know?" he asked, as he mechanically watched the mixing of the spirit and water. "She seems to be very much put out."
"I have noticed it myself, sir; but I don't know what the cause is," was the answer. "For my part, I don't think she has been at all herself since Sir Adam's death. Loving him as she did--why, of course, sir, it was a heavy blow; one not to be got over easily."
"And that's true, Hewitt. How many servants have you here?" resumed Karl, asking the question not really with any particular care to know, but simply to turn the subject.
"There's me and two maids, sir."
"You and two maids!" echoed Karl, in surprise. "Yes, sir, me and two maids. That's all; except the out o' door gardeners."
"But that's not enough for Foxwood. It is only what we had in Northamptonshire. How does the work get done? Why does my mother not keep more?"
"My mistress says she can't afford more, Sir Karl," returned Hewitt, who seemed sore upon the point, and spoke shortly.