"My duty towards my neighbours," said Irene, laughing.
"Love your neighbour as yourself, and I am your nearest neighbour," he answered.
Then, going to the window, he opened it, and, putting out his arm for a few moments, drew it in again and showed her the snowflakes on his coat-sleeve.
"You cannot possibly return to the Manor in such weather," he said, and touched the bell.
"Can you drive, or ride, to Anselm Manor, Bob?" he asked.
The man shook his head doubtfully.
"I'll try, sir."
"Take the old mare and 'the tub,' and bring Mrs. Courtly's maid back. She will know what her mistress requires."
"Yes, sir, I'll manage it," replied Bob Heather, with alacrity.
Mary Marley, Mrs. Courtly's maid, was Bob Heather's favourite, and he had an idea she preferred him to any of her admirers.