"You have brought something for my mistress, I believe," she said. "Miss Mountford cannot see you, but if you will send the note by me, she will answer it now, or forward a reply, if a message will not be sufficient."
"I was told to give it and the other article into her own hand; but if so be she will not see me, of course you shall take the note, and I'll wait here," said Capes, resuming his seat. "I dare say the lady will see me, though, when she has read the letter."
Capes waited what he thought an unconscionable time, but at length the messenger reappeared.
"This is the answer," she said, "and I am to tell you to please take back the other article. The note will explain."
"You don't mean that I'm to take the—the—what Captain Torrance sent—back with me. You must have made a mistake. You'd better ask again," replied Capes, unable to believe his ears.
"There's no mistake. I have told you exactly what my mistress, Miss Mountford, said."
"But she has not seen the captain's present."
"I know that. I can only tell you what message she sent. She made it very plain to me."
Capes almost snatched the note from the bearer's hand, put on his hat, and without another word left the house. He closed the door behind him with a bang, and once outside, gave further vent to his feelings in words which shall not be repeated in full, though part of them may.
"To think of me being so done out of everything. The captain will be so angry he'll be fit to strike me, though he'd better not. I've done my best and been beaten all round, by coachman and his girl, the waiting-maid and the mistress. But what aggravates me beyond anything is, that the finest brush of the day should have been in a way flung back in the captain's face. Such a compliment as it was for him to send it, when the lady was not present at all. I reckoned on a sovereign from her at the very least."