"You are mistaken," was the quiet reply. "I am a kitchen-maid; but if you want to see Cameron, who is Miss Mountford's own maid, I will let her know."
"I have no desire to see any face but yours, and I'm sure I couldn't find a prettier, if I had my pick of all in the house. I mean, of course, amongst them that are in service here. It isn't for such as me to pass an opinion about the ladies."
The girl heard this flattering speech with an unmoved countenance, and, much to Mr. Jem Capes's surprise, ignored it entirely when next addressing him.
"Please to tell me what you want, or whether you wish to see any of the men-servants. There are none of them in the house just now," she said.
The groom's face fell at the ill-success of his insinuating looks and compliments, and he answered, rather sharply, "I want nothing with servants—men or girls. I have had enough of one outside, the coachman, I think, who is about as sweet as a sloe or a crab-apple."
"You are speaking about my father. What is your message, please?"
Probably Jem Capes never felt so angry and humiliated as he did at this moment, when, for the second time, Patty Mountain, ignoring alike his compliments to herself and his impertinent allusion to her father, asked his business.
"My message is for your mistress, young woman," he replied in a sullen tone. "The gentleman who sent this note and something along with it, said I must give it into her own hand. What I have to ask you is, can I see the lady?"
"I cannot tell, but I will find out;" then, after civilly requesting the groom to take a seat, Patty disappeared, in order that the inquiry might be made.
Capes was not sorry when he saw another servant in place of Patty, but the new-comer proved to be older and still more staid-looking.