Jessie clutched him by his coat. "You can't go now," she hissed. "I hear Annie going to the door."
They heard the sound of the front door opening, then a murmur of voices and a subdued titter from Annie, and it closed. Next Annie's skurrying footsteps were heard careering wildly for the best bedroom, followed—a long way behind—by other footsteps. Then the drawing-room door opened prematurely, and Mr. Taylor appeared.
CHAPTER II
"Madam, the guests are come!"
Romeo and Juliet.
Mr. Taylor was a small man, with legs that did not seem to be a pair. He wore a velveteen coat, a white waistcoat, a lavender tie, and a flower in his buttonhole. In the doorway he stood rubbing his hands together and beaming broadly on the Thomsons.
"The girrl wanted me to wait on Mrs. Taylor coming downstairs, but I says to her, 'No ceremony for me, I'm a plain man,' and in I came. How are you, Mrs. Thomson? And is Jessie a good wee miss? How are you, Thomson—and Rubbert? Alick, you've grown out of recognition."
"Take this chair, Mr. Taylor," said Mrs. Thomson, while Shakespeare's Country with Coloured Illustrations slipped unheeded to the floor; and Jessie glared her disapproval of the little man.
"Not at all. I'll sit here. Expecting quite a gathering to-night, Mrs. Thomson?"
"Well, Mr. Taylor, they're mostly young people, friends of Jessie's," Mrs. Thomson explained.
"Quite so. Quite so. I'm at home among the young people, Mrs. Thomson. Always a pleasure to see them enjoy theirselves. Here comes Mrs. Taylor. C'me away, m'dear, into the fire."