"I'll send something in at once. Try to keep him quiet for a little," he said to Sallie, and she, having carefully closed the door, went back toward the fireplace to pacify the old man.
A few minutes later a pink-complexioned, flaxen-haired maid came tripping demurely in, with a great silver salver on which was set such an array of decanters that Captain Dove at once became most amiable again.
"And I will bring tea for your ladyship now," said the maid in her quaint Highland accent. "It was the other gentleman that told me to bring this first."
"That was quite right," Sallie reassured her, and asked her name.
"It is Mairi, my lady," the girl answered with a shy, gratified smile, and was very soon back with a beautiful service of Sèvres and a steaming urn.
Mr. Jobling virtuously declined Captain Dove's cordial invitation to help himself to a decanter, and asked Sallie for a cup of weak tea. At which the old man was still cackling discordantly when Slyne came in again a few minutes later.
"That's an obstinate old baggage!" said he, obviously incensed. "You must tell her, Sal—Lady Josceline, that she's to attend to my orders without any more back-talk."
Captain Dove turned in his armchair before the fire.
"That woman's my adopted daughter's housekeeper now, Mister Slyne," said he, frowning darkly. "And I'll trouble you not to interfere in what's no concern of yours. You're only a visitor here, you know."
Slyne darted a black glance at him, but did not answer him otherwise. "I told her to get your mother's rooms ready for you," he mentioned to Sallie. "And Ambrizette will be there by the time you'll want her.