“Who?—what person?” inquired Mr. Grahame with the air of one who denied the right of any “person” to seek an audience with him.
“The pesson concerning which you gave me hin-structions, sir—I asked ’im into the libree, sir.”
“Into my library, man?” cried Mr. Grahame, rising up, angrily. “Pray what does the fellow mean? How dare you ask any ‘person’ into my library without my instructions to that effect?”
“He said he were Mr. Chewkle, sir, and if you please to remember”——
The face of Mr. Grahame turned as pale as death, and then changed to an intense crimson.
“Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes!” he cried hurriedly, altering his tone; “return to him—say I will come to him immediately.”
The man bowed, and quitted the room.
Mr. Grahame walked to the window and looked out into the sunlight. It lay upon the grassy lawn, upon the sloping meads, upon the waving trees, like gleaming gold dust. The soft breeze made the leaves flutter merrily, birds darted to and fro in the clear air, singing gaily, and brilliantly attired ladies and children moved over the open places in the broad park, animated by the beauty of the scene, and the glory of the sunshine. Mr. Grahame looked distastefully upon it, it ill-assorted with the feelings at war within his breast, and he turned from it with an impatient exclamation. He set his teeth together, drew a long breath, and, with his features more pallid than usual, strode out of the room.
Mrs. Grahame—too much occupied with visions of her own dignity, when she thought at all, which was not often—took no notice of the disturbed manner of her husband. If she had seen it, she would not have credited the evidence of her own eyes. A Grahame disturbed or agitated, the thing was impossible.
Neither did Helen, who was sketching fancy portraits of the Honourable Lester Vane; nor Margaret, who was not even troubled by an effort of imagination, observe him; but Evangeline perceived his inward perturbation, and not daring to offer a word, or breathe a hope that she might aid in alleviating it, sat sadly at her needlework, filled with a foreboding that something foreshadowed trial and affliction to the House.