"You can't possibly get away; I was counting on you, as you know, to propose the health of Sir Austin. I'll send word that you'll come the first thing in the morning—whoever it is that wants you."
I couldn't catch the response; but I knew right well what line it would take.
"No, I don't think they belong to St. Andrew's," I heard Gordon a moment later; "not as far as I know, at least. They're very poor, I should fancy, from the quarter they live in."
"Then it seems to me you're under no obligation to go," I could just hear Mr. Ashton saying, in a tone that chilled me; "you'll find it quite enough, I imagine, to look after your own people. What's the matter anyway?"
"I don't know," said Gordon, "but the messenger said they wanted me right away—it's a matter of duty, Mr. Ashton."
Just with this Mr. Ashton drew the door shut behind him. I did not wait to analyze the impulse that suddenly seized me, but hastily arose, with a word of apology to my hostess, and slipped swiftly out into the hall. I do not think either of the men noticed me.
"Well, all I've got to say is this," Mr. Ashton was exclaiming, "that I consider it a slight to my guest—a downright slight, sir; an insult, I might almost say, to Sir Austin Beachcroft. And I know he'll have his own opinion of it, sir—and you can explain to him yourself—I'll make no apologies for you, mind."
Gordon replied just the way I would have expected him to: "I don't care a rap for all the Sir Austins in the kingdom," he said, moving on up the stairs to get his coat; "it's probable some one's dying—and wants me."
Mr. Ashton followed a step or two up the stair. "I suppose I may take that to mean," his voice now thick with anger, "that you don't care a rap for me either; nor for anybody else of the people that—that hire you—and pay you, Mr. Laird," the words coming hot and hissing, his flaming face turned up towards Gordon at the top of the stairs.
I could see Gordon's eyes flash from where he stood. "If you think I'm your hired servant, Mr. Ashton—or anybody else's, when my duty's concerned—you'll find out your mistake. We needn't carry this discussion any further," as he turned and went into the dressing-room.